Creatures of the Night
by PurplePatchwork
Summary: The companion story of World's Worst Vampire, starring Arthur the mage, Gilbert the werewolf, and Francis the incubus. While Alfred has his hands full with a certain demon of ice, Arthur has his own problems to manage. Contains a one-sided England/France and a more than bromance PrUK.
1. Chapter 1: Green

Chapter 1: Green

 **Welcome to the companion story to World's Worst Vampire, starring Arthur the mage, unorthodox crushes, a rock band, rebellion, and an albino werewolf.**

 **Since I already explain everything about the monster society in WWV I'm not going to do it again here. I recommend you read that story first if you're confused. If you really don't feel like reading it, I suppose I could give a short overview of how this society works the next update so just give me a head's up if you'd like that.**

 **For those who have already seen the parts in WWV: you can skip whatever you recognize if you don't feel like rereading, there will be some new parts added in between and starting chapter six there will be completely new info.**

xoxox

Arthur Ignatius Kirkland was quite the extraordinary young lad. The youngest of five, he lived in a huge mansion in the monster society just outside of New York. His family had moved there quite some time ago, when his father applied for college here. Still, they were Englishmen to their very core. Or maybe British was a better term, as some of his brothers had spent so much time in neighbouring countries even their accent changed on several occasions.

Despite being the youngest, Arthur was also the most powerful mage of his family. Stronger than Allistor (his oldest brother), stronger than his father, only outnumbered by his extremely talented grandmother.

Arthur was a lover of music, an avid reader of Shakespeare, had a short temper but a caring heart. He was also quite rebellious, but perhaps that was just the age.

Perhaps not.

"Arthur, mon amour!"

Arthur's head automatically snapped back at hearing that sultry voice call out to him. A blush immediately threatened to spill onto his cheeks, but he managed to hold it back by scowling.

"What do you want, frog?"

Sashaying his way was Francis Bonnefoy, sexy- no, entirely unattractive dandy and incubus. He always reeked of roses and ripe grapes, his golden locks waving in the non-existent wind as he batted his long eyelashes and blew kisses to his fans.

"I simply wanted to say hello, mon lapin. And that I have a meeting with my teacher after next class, so you will have to miss a few extra minutes of my presence this lunch break."

Arthur rolled his eyes and walked straight passed the Frenchman, grumbling when the demon fluttered behind.

' _Stop following me,'_ he thought, but alas.

Whether it be physically or in his thoughts, Francis wasn't set on leaving him alone.

And thus was the story of his life.

xoxox

"I hate all of you! How could you leave me behind with that lunatic Swiss?!" Arthur seethed, scowling at his companions.

Said companions were Gilbert, Francis and Matthew, as they were all on their way home, around the same time Alfred was cleaning the gymnasium.

They were heading home after school, and the events of today were still freshly imprinted in Arthur's mind. How the bully Alice had thrown a bag of blood over Alfred's head, Carrie style. Of how the ice demon Ivan Braginsky had then come to their table and said something odd, after which Alfred had taken him by the arm and practically dragged him out of the canteen. He and Kiku had exchanged some worried looks at that, but were quickly cut off as Gilbert and Francis arrived. And then Francis had said something stupid again, which resulted in Arthur trying to cast a spell, which in turn resulted in said spell accidentally hitting the sister of trigger-happy Vash Zwingli. Sigh.

"But dear Arthur, you seemed to be very much able to manage things yourself!" Francis chuckled, winking playfully at the angry Brit.

Arthur was not amused.

Gilbert gave Matthew a soft nudge.

"Why are you being so quiet Birdie?"

No one knew exactly why it was that Gilbert had invented that nickname. Matthew didn't look like a bird at all, especially with that polar bear in his arms. Nonetheless, the name had stuck.

"I was just thinking about my brother."

Francis came to walk by his other side.

"Mais oui! Our beloved vierge apparently has taken a liking to monsieur Braginsky!"

Arthur joined the conversation.

"I must admit it is quite worrisome… And I don't believe his excuse at all. Why on earth would that demon twat help him with his homework? For heaven's sake, yesterday they were still ready to lunge at each other!"

Gilbert thoughtfully looked up at the sky, for once not acting like an egocentric child.

"Something must have happened yesterday when we weren't around. Something… But what?"

"Whatever it is, if the Russian is involved, it can't be anything good," Arthur grumbled, although highly concerned for their friend's well-being.

"You think so?" Matthew asked.

Francis put an encouraging arm around the boy's shoulders.

"Do not worry Mathieu! I say we just wait and see how this progresses. Who knows, maybe tomorrow things will go back to normal? But right now, there is simply nothing we can do."

Arthur tsk-ed at the Frenchman for his laid-back demeanour.

' _Nothing to worry about my ass!'_ he thought bitterly. _'Something tells me there is more going on here…'_

Their conversation was interrupted by the sudden flash of a camera. Turning around, the four boys could see Elizabeta hidden behind a bush.

"And what do you think you're doing?" Gilbert growled at her, though his eyes flickered in amusement.

"Simply taking some pictures, don't mind me!" the girl informed them. "Oh but Francis, can you please grope Matthew's ass for me? That'd be great!"

Instead of doing as she told him, the incubus sashayed over to her hiding spot. He pulled a rose seemingly out of nowhere and held it in front of her crouching figure.

"My dearest Elizabeta! Instead of sneaking up on us, would you not much rather go on a date with moi? I promise you it will be the night of your life!"

The wicca giggled, but declined his offer.

"Sorry, but I'm already taken."

Francis raised an eyebrow, smiling seductively.

"Oh? But I can assure you mademoiselle: the one you are seeing now is nothing compared to what I could do for you. And there will be absolutely no strings attached, ma chère. He doesn't even have to know."

Elizabeta shook her head, not at all tempted by his offer.

"It's not because you're a sex demon that you're irresistible, Francis dear."

This was certainly not what the demon wanted to hear. He got to his knees, dramatically holding a hand to his forehead. Gilbert was snickering away at his being rejected.

"Mon Dieu! Can it be? Is there a creature alive who can resist l'amour? This is a dark day in monster history."

Elizabeta got up and re-adjusted her dress.

"Yup. I'm totally resisting you. And I have to go now, my date is waiting for me. And for the record, I'm certain he will make for a much more unforgettable partner than you."

With another wink at the nearly hysteric werewolf, she left the scene.

While Matthew tried to console the melodramatic incubus, Arthur kept more to himself. He threw angry glares at Francis, more than a little annoyed with his impertinent flirting. And not only because it was disgusting and pathetic to look at.

' _Damn him,'_ he thought.

He was mad at Francis for being such a fool.

But most of all, he was mad at himself.

For having an enormous crush on said fool.

He was mad, not only because Francis was so obnoxious, but also because he was an incubus. And sex demons weren't exactly known for their monogamous nature.

Arthur knew Francis would never return his love. Yet he couldn't help but feeling the way he did, getting jealous, blushing at the other's sexual harassment, his heart skipping a beat every now and then. He concealed it of course, but the feelings were still there.

He knew he could have sex with the demon if he wanted, all he had to do to achieve that was ask. Incubi were always eager to comply to such requests. And Francis himself had tried to seduce him more than once already.

But how could he ever just sell his body like that? Knowing it would be just sex, no deeper meaning attached. Arthur didn't want that, knew his heart wouldn't be able to take it.

Francis would find out what exactly he meant to him, and it would just ruin their friendship. Francis wouldn't be able to stay with Arthur alone, always being drawn to others due to his nature. Maybe he would feel guilty in doing so, seeing as they were still friends, but it wouldn't stop him.

Arthur was jealous enough on his own, he didn't want to have sex just to have another thing to share with others and further complicate things. And so he kept his emotions to himself, locking them away in the deepest part of his soul, praying every day they'd just disappear. So far they hadn't, but he was able to ignore the pain.

His time was running out however. There is only so much the heart can take before breaking.

Arthur didn't know it yet, but he was standing at the abyss.

With just a few more pushes he would tumble over the edge.

Heartbreak was inevitable, were he to continue this way.

And after that…

The great unknown.

xoxox

Tuesday went by rather uneventful. Wednesday started out rather normal too. That is until someone told Arthur that Alfred had gotten into trouble somehow.

"Seriously though, I have no idea where we've gone wrong in raising the boy," Arthur said with a sigh.

He along with Kiku and Matthew were sitting on a bench at the local park. The moon set the greenery alight, casting an entrancing spell on the surface of the pond and illuminating nightly figures. Kumajiro was playfully nipping at some fish, having no luck with catching a meal.

"Does anyone even know why he got detention?" the Brit continued his ranting.

"I already told you," Matthew squeaked indignantly.

"You have? My apologies chap. It must've slipped my mind."

Matthew rolled his eyes before repeating himself.

"I don't know the exact details since the others kept blocking my view, but according to Gil my brother and Ivan got into a fight."

Kiku straightened his figure, alarmed by the vampire's words.

"That is serious. No one ever picks a fight with that demon."

"You mean no one's dumb enough. Except for Alfred that is," the green-eyed mage grumbled.

"Still, it is rather worrisome," the Japanese boy continued. "What exactly is going on between Alfred-kun and Braginsky-san? Francis-san said not to be concerned about it, but the amount of time they spend together has drastically increased…"

Arthur furrowed his bushy brows.

"If that demon scumbag is somehow hurting our Alfred, I'll make sure he pays for it!"

Kiku chuckled.

"I did not know you cared so much for Alfred-kun."

Arthur turned his head with a huff, a light pink dusting his cheeks.

"Of course I care, he's our friend isn't he? What do you take me for Kiku, a heartless bastard?"

Matthew had tuned out their conversation. The relationship between his twin and the Slavic monster did raise many questions. As if they hadn't enough problems without Ivan being added to the equation…

The three teens looked up when a loud howl cut through the night's quiet. They could see a silvery figure approaching at a fast pace, crimson eyes visible even from this distance.

"Good Heaven's Gilbert! Do you want to draw the attention of the entire neighbourhood to us?" Arthur lectured the werewolf, as soon as he was within hearing-distance.

He still had to squint his eyes a bit to make out the wolf's posture, him not exactly being a creature of the night. But monsters like mages and fairies simply had to adapt to the biological clock of other's, since most preferred the darkness over the daylight. And Arthur was powerful enough to conjure up a tiny sun for getting the necessary vitamins.

"Hey you guys! Look at what I found!"

The albino skidded to a halt, his paws carefully holding a tiny yellow chick.

"What are you doing with that?" Arthur inquired, taking note of the bird's laboured breathing.

"I think it's one of our kind! You know, like Birdie's polar bear or Francis' dove! It was being attacked by a cat, but it somehow managed to chase the beast away! It did get hurt in the process though…"

Gilbert's eyes were shining, his tail wagging with excitement. He'd always had a thing with birds, so the prospect of finding a magical one made him ecstatic. However, seeing the thing's condition, it probably didn't have long to live. That would really crush the wolf's spirit.

Everyone knew this, but Gilbert was set on saving the chick.

"Gilbert-kun…" Kiku began, but the kitsune was soon interrupted.

"Nein! I know what you're going to say Kiku, but I know we can save him! If it's a magical creature, it's our duty!"

"But Gilbert, how? None of us has taken care of a bird before, and my Kumakicha's never been sick," Matthew spoke in a hesitant voice.

The albino turned to Arthur. With one paw, he desperately held onto to the mage's hands. Arthur went wide-eyed with surprise when the narcissist Prussian got to his knees – he refused to call himself a German for some reason, even though Prussia no longer existed.

"Artie, I know you can do it. You probably have some spell in one of your books right? You don't have to heal it all the way, just enough for it to be able to recover on its own."

Arthur gulped, getting a little flustered under the way those piercing red eyes drilled themselves into his emerald greens.

"I-I…"

"No buts Arthur! Ich bitte Dich, help my bird!"

He'd only found it just a few seconds ago, and already he was this attached to the animal? This surprised Arthur.

But how could he say no to such a desperate plea?

The blond sighed.

"Get up Gilbert. I'll see what I can do."

Arthur yelped when the albino suddenly leapt up and pulled him into a bone-crushing embrace.

"Danke! I owe you one now Engel!"

Arthur blushed fiercely as he tried to push the werewolf off. He wasn't used to getting hugs from the Prussian like this.

In fact, this was the longest conversation they'd ever had without throwing teasing insults at each other.

They had met at the first day of high school. Arthur was already friends with Alfred, and Gilbert had been an email-buddy of Matthew's. As soon as vampire and werewolf met in real life, they became inseparable. Alfred and Arthur weren't all that happy with having him join their little group of friends, since he was obnoxious and way too into himself. Even more so than Alfred had been at the time – that was before all the others started to lose their virginity and began mocking him.

But after some time they grew used to having the werewolf around. He became a regular part of their daily school lives. After that, Kiku and Francis joined, Francis being a friend of Gilbert's and Kiku… Well, Alfred had met him on a gaming conference and immediately decided they were best friends.

Arthur's relationship to Gilbert could be considered fairly neutral. They didn't meet each other outside of the group, and occasionally got into verbal fights with the other, but nothing too bad. They were more of a constant presence to the other, nothing of a disturbance, but they didn't seek each other out if there were other options.

So for the werewolf to instantly come to him… It was an all-new experience Arthur didn't really know how to deal with.

"Uh… It's nothing, no need to thank me."

Arthur awkwardly patted the albino on his back, hoping he would be released soon. When the wolf did, he had a grin from ear-to-ear plastered on his face, eyes twinkling with glee. Arthur had never seen those eyes from such a close proximity before, and he suddenly found the red reminding him very much of a certain demon's favourite roses…

He stole a glance at the bird to rid his mind of those thoughts, seeing it on the verge of collapsing.

With new determination, he grabbed Gilbert by the arm.

"Let's go to my house, I'll see what I can find in my books."

Kiku and Matthew raced after them, four students concerned for the future of this little bird.

Arthur lived in a Victorian-inspired mansion, his parents being rich immigrants from London. Lampposts set themselves alight as the group passed by, magic buzzing through the air and forming an almost palpable layer around the house.

Gilbert looked around as soon as they were inside. He'd never been to Arthur's home before, and definitely hadn't expected such grandeur and exquisite wealth. Yes, Arthur was always dressed in suits and expensive brands under his black cape ("It's a bloody cloak!"), but the werewolf had no idea his family was _this_ loaded.

Arthur took them up the stairs, Kiku and Matthew already knowing their way around the house. Gilbert shot curious glances at all the doors they passed, wondering what treasures were hidden behind them.

"What's in-"

"My brothers' rooms," Arthur cut him off.

Gilbert knew better than to keep asking. Arthur wasn't always on good terms with his brothers, being the youngest in a family of five sons. Sure, they looked after their little brother, but they also didn't let a chance go by to make him remember he was the fledgling among them. Patrick, Dylan, Allistor and Finn Kirkland(1) were known for their not-so-friendly behaviour towards little Arthur.

"In here."

The four boys entered Arthur's bedroom. It was supposed to be a big room, but the walls were so cramped with bookcases it made the space look much smaller. Posters of famous sorcerers hung next to ones of heavy metal and rock bands, an electric guitar stalled proudly in a corner.

Gilbert whistled in admiration.

"I didn't know you played guitar Artie!"

"There's a lot more you don't know dog," Arthur said with a tiny smirk.

Gilbert wanted to retaliate, but Matthew laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Gil, your bird…"

The wolf was immediately focussed on the wounded animal again. While Arthur searched for the right book, he laid it down on the Brit's bed. Kiku came with water and Matthew searched for some disinfectant in the bathroom. The bird chirped weakly, its eyes cracking open to stare blindly at its surroundings.

"Told you it's a magic chick. Normal birds wouldn't have lived this long!" Gilbert boasted, although his eyes read nothing but the highest concern.

He carefully reached out and caressed the tiny body, heart thumping anxiously at such a pitiful display. He didn't know why, but he somehow felt connected to the little thing.

"Don't worry Gilbird. Ich werde Dich retten."

"Gilbird?" Matthew asked.

"Ja. Because he's awesome, like me!"

"Found it!" Arthur said with a victorious grin, pulling a book from one of his cases.

The others made room for the Brit, waiting in nervous anticipation. He scanned the pages until he finally found the one he'd been looking for.

"With this spell I can heal the bird's worst injuries. After that, it will just need a couple of days rest before it's out and about again."

He pulled out his wand, but was stopped by a hand around his wrist.

"Don't mess up," Gilbert warned him with a grave expression.

Arthur locked eyes with him for a moment, features reading nothing but solemnity.

"I won't."

Gilbert released him and stepped back. The three boys watched as Arthur pointed his wand at the bird and read the words of the healing incantation.

A soothing blue flashed through the room. Kiku and Matthew shielded their eyes, but Gilbert didn't look away. When the light disappeared, the bird was fast asleep, breathing normally and looking entirely at peace.

Arthur collapsed to his knees, releasing the breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"It worked," he sighed, closing his eyes.

It wasn't really the spell itself that had taken a toll on him, more the pressure of knowing Gilbert's happiness depended on his succeeding. As dumb as that may sound, since it was just a bird he'd found less than an hour ago. But Gilbert trusted him, and being the gentleman he was, he felt obliged in doing the best he could.

And seeing how happy the wolf was now, he knew it was worth it.

"Danke Arthur! You're the best!" Gilbert cheered, turning to smile at the Brit.

Arthur nodded before breaking away from that gaze, feeling a little self-conscious all of a sudden.

"No need to thank me," he muttered, although happy with the praise.

Gilbert petted his new friend, tail wagging happily.

"Get better soon Gilbird. You really are awesome!"

xoxox

1) Patrick is the Republic of Ireland, Finn is Northern Ireland, Allistor is Scotland and Dylan is Wales.

Words:

Mais oui: But yes  
Vierge: Virgin  
Monsieur: Mister  
Moi: Me  
Mademoiselle: Miss  
Ma chère: My dear (female)  
Mon Dieu: My God  
L'amour: Love  
Nein: No  
Ich bitte Dich: I beg you  
Engel: Angel  
Ich werde Dich retten: I will rescue you  
Ja: Yes


	2. Chapter 2: Viridian

Chapter 2: Viridian

Arthur was feeling a little awkward. Which was an emotion he'd rather erase from his dictionary, especially seeing as this was _his_ bedroom.

Why was he feeling awkward you ask?

Well, a couple of minutes ago, Kiku and Matthew left his house. And Gilbert had stayed. Because he wanted to make sure his new pet was going to be all right.

At the moment, the albino was sitting on the bed, his bed, cooing at the yellow chick and simply watching over it while the bird slept.

And Arthur had absolutely no idea what to say to him.

Their usual form of conversation didn't seem to fit the situation. Arthur couldn't think of any good insults, the Prussian was obviously not in the mood for a verbal fight, and he didn't know what else he could say. Plus there was the fact that Gilbert was now his guest, and Arthur was a gentleman. He knew he should play the host and try to make him comfortable, but he somehow figured the other would just laugh at his good manners.

So, here he was, leaning awkwardly against the wall.

"…Want anything to drink?" he tried.

"Nein, Danke," was the albino's reply.

Another minute of silence in which Arthur watched the other covet his new best friend. Then Gilbert turned to him with a smirk.

"Or you know what? If you could bring me a beer, that'd be awesome."

Arthur scowled at him.

"I'm not giving you alcohol, dog."

The werewolf grinned widely.

"There's the grump we all know and love! Come on Artie, relax. You don't have to be all formal with me."

Arthur sputtered something incomprehensible, ears growing a dark shade of red. Gilbert snickered before turning to the chick again.

"I mean it, relax. We have known each other for how many years now? I'll admit, we don't talk that often. But that shouldn't be a problem anymore by now."

Arthur turned to scowling harshly again.

"Are you suggesting I'm scared of being alone with you or something? I'll have you know I'm at the top of my class, so I have absolutely no need to be nervous about anything, thank you very much."

Gilbert rolled his eyes.

"Good. Because it would be totally un-awesome if you were scared of me."

As if to prove the werewolf wrong, Arthur pushed himself off the wall and marched over to the other, after which he plopped down on the mattress next to him.

"Why do I have such weird friends?" he asked himself with an exasperated sigh.

"Hey, I'm not weird Fräulein! You're just a snob!"

"What?!" Arthur growled.

He was about to curse the albino when he saw the mocking smirk on his face.

"Just teasing Artie!"

The mage grumbled and flopped back onto his bed.

"Seriously Gilbert. I'm too tired for games."

Gilbert followed his lead, now looking up at the ceiling. It was like looking up at the sky; painted a dark blue with constellations scattered across the surface.

"Thank you."

Green eyes shot to him, outrageous eyebrows raised in question.

"For what you did for Gilbird," the albino explained himself.

Arthur let out a short hum of understanding before looking back up.

"That's fine lad."

They remained silent for a little while, Gilbert for once not boasting about his awesomeness and Arthur not trying to make him realize he was anything but that.

It gave the mage the time to let his thoughts wander to forbidden zones again, thinking of lapis lazuli, easy-going chansons and the odour of fresh roses and baguettes…

"So you play the guitar?"

"Huh?"

Gilbert was sitting next to his instrument, studying the object as if it was something divine. Arthur slowly sat up again, wondering when he'd dozed off.

"Uh, yes. I do."

The werewolf grinned excitedly, tail wagging.

"Care to show me?"

Arthur didn't know how to react to that. It wasn't like he was afraid of making a fool out of himself. The mage knew he was a good musician – and that was a huge understatement. It was just that Gilbert had never shown such interest in him before, only coming to him when he wanted help with his homework.

"I guess so, if you want me to…"

Gilbert nodded, carefully picking up the guitar and holding it out to the blond. Arthur placed it in his lap and looked around him, searching for inspiration. He closed his eyes and smiled as he let his fingers caress the cords, instinctively knowing what to do. Gilbert sat on the ground, red eyes shining with childish joy. Arthur smirked before starting on the song he'd been practising the night before.

The albino remained perfectly silent during his performance, listening with genuine interest. The Brit kept his eyes closed; he wanted to remain focussed and he didn't plan on looking at his audience, afraid of being overcome by bashfulness. He even sang along with the lyrics, happy his voice didn't let him down today.

When the song was finished, Gilbert let out a howling bark and clapped his paws together.

" _I want to hold your hand_ from the Beatles! I didn't know you were into the classics Artie!"

The mage looked up with a pleasantly surprised smile.

"You know the Beatles? Strange, I've always taken you for more of a Heavy Metal fan. Thought you only listened to bands such as Rammstein and the likes."

Gilbert shook his head and rolled his ruby-red eyes.

"Nah, I'm more of an all-rounded guy. Like a bit here, love a bit there. But the Beatles rule."

Arthur gently set down his guitar, feeling completely at ease after his little nap and the song.

"Do you perhaps play an instrument?"

The werewolf nodded.

"Of course! I have a drum set, I play the flute, and I own a triangle."

Arthur snorted at his list.

"I understand the drum set, but why a flute and triangle?"

"The triangle was just to annoy Roderich when he was playing too much piano. But it still sounds awesome when I use it. I'm so good I can make one single cling sound amazing!"

Arthur chuckled at that, but waited with the usual insults until the other was done explaining.

"And I just like the flute. I'm a lot more traditional than you think at some points, Fräulein. Not like that bloodsucking loser with his pop and electro. Nein, I have style!"

He meant the 'bloodsucking loser' part as a joke of course; Gilbert would never bash on his friends like that.

"Who taught you that?" the mage inquired.

If Arthur hadn't been there with him, he wouldn't have believed what Gilbert did next.

The werewolf suddenly went uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes growing to be the size of watermelons, his muscles tensing, ears falling flat and his tail dropping to the ground.

"Gilbert?" Arthur asked, immediately worried for the other's well-being (not that he'd ever admit it).

The wolf remained in that frozen state for a full minute before speaking up.

"…I don't really want to talk about it."

Arthur nodded, glad he was speaking again. It must've been someone who died or went away for the albino to have such a reaction.

They were interrupted by a sudden knock on the door.

"Oi fag, the Old Man says dinner is-"

The newcomer paused at seeing Gilbert sitting on the rug.

With his reddish-brown hair, eyes resembling grass and spring, and a faint scar on his left cheek, it could only be Patrick Kirkland. The man in his early twenties studied the werewolf sitting in his sibling's bedroom, blessed thin eyebrows frowning just a tad.

Then he smirked.

"I just meant that fag-thing as an insult, I didn't actually want you to become one you dope."

Arthur's face immediately flushed an angry red.

"What on earth are you implying you bloody wanker?!"

Patrick snorted, happy to see his brother's temper as vibrant as ever.

"Is _that_ eating with us?" he asked, talking about the werewolf as if he weren't even there.

Arthur was about to make another comment when Gilbert jumped up and cut him off.

"Of course I am! Wouldn't want all of you to miss my awesome presence!"

Patrick's grin deflated, eyes turning to little angry slits.

"You're not getting anything if you keep talking like that, _dog_."

"Don't speak to him like that!" Arthur lectured his older brother, even though he used that word quite a lot himself. But only he was allowed to insult the werewolf in this house; his brothers were to keep their hands off of him.

Gilbert studied the following discussion with hanging jaw.

"Oh, sorry boyo. Guess I should call him your boyfriend. Or are you his little bird?"

Arthur seethed with anger, trying and failing to push his brother out of the room.

Gilbert curiously tilted his head, ears pointing upwards.

"My bird? I only call Matt Birdie…"

Arthur groaned and Patrick laughed.

"Ah, so the chap _is_ a fag!"

"You're not helping Gilbert! And you, get out!" Arthur yelled.

Before it could escalate, the door was suddenly opened further to reveal a healthy young adult with striking red hair and eyes a slightly darker shade of emerald than the youngest'.

"What is going on here?" Allistor said calmly, stern gaze falling on his bickering siblings.

"Arthur's a whoopsie-"

"Am not!" the blond interrupted indignantly.

Well, technically he did dream of a French accent and a flat chest, but Gilbert had absolutely nothing to do with it all.

Allistor raised an eyebrow, but his expression remained the same. Which meant that he had a piercing gaze that could kill with a single look.

"Never mind that. We can discuss the lad's sexual orientation after dinner."

Patrick quickly pulled Arthur along with him, ignoring his protests and embarrassed stuttering. Allistor motioned for Gilbert to follow them.

' _This is going to be interesting…'_ the Prussian thought as he quietly followed after the three loudly arguing brothers.

They entered a huge dining room, crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling and a cosy fire roaring in a natural stone-mantel fireplace. Four people were already seated at the table, a maid bringing in a bowl with asparagus soup.

Sitting next to each other were Dylan and Finn Kirkland, the first having light-brown, almost blond hair and moss green eyes, a slender figure and the exact same hairstyle as Arthur. Finn was an almost identical twin of Patrick's, the only difference being a slightly more dark brown shade of hair and eyebrows leaning towards their younger sibling one's. Yes, the Kirkland brothers certainly did resemble each other a lot.

The other two present were Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland.

Lord Henry Kirkland was a great mage with a title of nobility, hair just as blond and messy as his youngest but with the thinner eyebrows of the older brothers. He had decided upon moving to the States after learning he could take a course in Creative Writing here and become a full-time writer, something he'd always dreamt off. His family simply had to adapt to his wishes, but luckily the boys grew adjusted to their new home fast enough. He was currently working at the local university, earning quite a bit of money with his articles on Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde.

The nymph by the name of Lady Jane Kirkland was almost the complete opposite of her husband; a free-spirited woman with cardinal curls that always seemed to be moving and buzzing with life. She was the culprit of Arthur's bushy eyebrows, but just like with him, it only helped in giving more expression to her ever-lively features. She always walked barefooted, but moved with the greatest of grace and elegance, proper etiquette well-known in her glossary. Her short green dresses reminded of forests and a warm summer breeze in the month of May. The boys got their scowling from Henry, but they definitely got their energy from their mother.

Arthur sat down next to Finn with a heavy grunt, motioning for Gilbert to do the same. The werewolf did as he was told, although a bit more nervous when confronted with such respectable adults.

"Oh, what is this? My dearest Ari, I didn't know you were having a friend over!"

Arthur groaned and laid his head on the table.

"Please mum, I asked you not to call me that again when we're with company!"

Jane giggled delightfully before turning to their guest.

"I don't think we've met yet luv. Mind telling me your name?"

Her fluorescent spheres were the exact same shade of green as Arthur's, and Gilbert found himself straightening his figure and holding back his usual swankiness, for once actually trying to impress someone with good manners instead of an over-the-top amount of charisma.

"My name's Gilbert Mrs. Kirkland, Gilbert Beilschmidt. I'm in the same year as Arti- Arthur."

Jane smiled warmly.

"You can call him Artie if that's what you always do sweetie. My baby doesn't mind."

They heard a little grunt of protest, but ignored it completely.

Allistor and Patrick sat down next to their mother, the young adults already having forgotten the previous discussion with their younger sibling and now chatting about work. Speaking about jobs: Patrick owned a pub, Allistor was an engineer, Dylan had a potion-and bookstore, and Finn worked as a pilot for a travel agency (he was the one who flew exchange students over from Western Europe). Gilbert was actually in quite a luck to see the whole family together, seeing as the oldest four had already graduated from high school and were now a fully functioning part of the monster society.

Lord Henry was reading a newspaper, sparing only a brief glance of acknowledgment at the albino before going back to the headline of that night; 'Student attacks teacher with hunting rifle.'

Before the family (and guest) got to eating their soup, a final member entered the room.

This newcomer was Lady Anglia Kirkland. She was Arthur's grandmother and the obvious Mater Familia of the Kirkland clan(1). The boys instantly fell silent as soon as she walked forward with disciplined strides, carefully taking in her surroundings. This woman simply oozed aristocracy; her long golden locks falling delicately over her shoulders, hands folded in front of her stomach, viridian eyes wise and all-seeing. But the most salient feature about her appearance were two life-size wings like that of an angel's, dragging across the floor and only a bit ruffled with age. Her nickname _was_ the Britannia Angel, after all.

She stopped at the head of the table, a butler immediately walking over to pull her chair back and help her take a seat. As soon as the woman was comfortable, the chattering re-ignited, as if having waited for her mute approval.

"We have a guest," Anglia commented, not looking in Gilbert's direction but knowing he was there nonetheless.

"A friend of Arthur's apparently," Henry replied, again keeping his eyes on the paper in his hands.

Anglia nodded, after which she looked at Gilbert expectantly.

After getting a nudge from Arthur's elbow the werewolf rose from his seat, even making a short bow for good measure.

"Gilbert Beilschmidt your ladyship. Arthur and I go to the same school," he spoke, hoping he was using the right terms.

Anglia nodded again, after which she turned to her soup. This seemed to be the cue they'd been waiting for; all of a sudden everyone had a spoon in their mouth.

Arthur pulled Gilbert down again and advised him to do the same.

"Are dinners at your place always so stiff?" he said in a low voice, feeling a little aggravated by Anglia's behaviour.

Arthur shrugged.

"It's not that bad," he whispered back. "You just have to get used to it, that's all."

Gilbert decided to just go with the flow and copy the other's actions to make sure he didn't make any grave mistakes.

After soup came the main course: roast lamb with mint sauce, oven-baked potatoes with rosemary and garlic, and some parsnips and carrots as a side-dish.

Gilbert's eyes almost rolled out of their sockets at seeing such a delicious meal. Because one: knowing Arthur's cooking skills, he tried not to get his hopes up that his family _could_ in fact cook without blowing up the kitchen, and two: the werewolf came from a much poorer home, their pack having to fight for each little chicken leg or piece of minced meat, lovely blood-soaked steak being a luxury.

Gilbert thanked the gods for having him find Gilbird; it was because of the chick that he could now eat like a king.

"So, Gilbert luv, are you staying the night?" Jane asked after filling her plate. The woman had quite an appetite for someone with such a petite figure.

Gilbert shot a quick glance at his friend, waiting for the nod that told him he would indeed be staying here tonight.

"That's good! Ari doesn't have friends over that often," Jane cheered.

"Yes, why's that lad? Embarrassed of your own family?" Allistor said with a grunt. You really couldn't tell if he was just teasing, or actually suspicious.

"I just go to them more than the other way around," Arthur avoided the question.

It wasn't really embarrassment that made him keep his friends away; it was more like he didn't want to overwhelm them with his situation at home. Because even though Gilbert had called him a snob before, Arthur was anything but that, and he didn't want his friends to think otherwise.

Suddenly, Anglia's voice sounded across the table.

"So Mr. Beilschmidt, have you already decided what you want to become after you graduate?"

Gilbert was a little taken by surprise, him not instantly knowing how to react to the question. He quickly put his knife and fork down after having Arthur stomp on his foot, breaking him away from his state of bewilderment.

"I'm still not entirely sure. I might want to be something like a night guard or something like that, or maybe I'll take over our pack leader's job as gym teacher…" (The pack leader being coach Alfher, by the way.)

Anglia nodded. "Those are certainly respectable jobs."

But then Gilbert's eyes glazed over, lips spreading into a wide grin.

"But I would love to be a rock star."

The temperature seemed to drop a few degrees, despite the fire still burning intensely.

The albino didn't notice, him now being stuck in his fantasies of being a famous idol, finally making the world take notice of his awesomeness.

Six sets of eyes exchanged worried glances with each other, all knowing what was about to come next.

Arthur was stubbornly glaring a hole in his plate, cursing the werewolf for bringing up the subject.

The others all looked away when Lord Henry finally put down his newspaper, brows furrowed angrily.

"A rock star," he repeated, as if tasting the words on the tip of his tongue.

Anglia returned to her meal, already knowing exactly what her son was going to say. She pitied her youngest grandson; Henry really could be quite a handful.

"Did you not say you wanted to be a rock star as well, Arthur?"

Gilbert snapped away from his little dream world to stare open-mouthed at the green-eyed mage. So that guitar wasn't just a hobby of his; he actually wanted to make his job out of it?

The werewolf grinned widely and slapped the other on the back.

"That's awesome Artie! Good luck with that!"

Arthur remained silent, shoulders tensed in a nervous way, eyebrows knitting together even tighter than his father's.

"So you think becoming a rock star is 'awesome', Mr. Beilschmidt?"

The werewolf immediately stopped grinning like an idiot when that stern gaze fell on him. He felt like at that moment, he lost an innocent little part of himself, knowing it would never return.

"Do you still think it is awesome when you get evicted from you house because you can't pay the rent? When you have to live in an apartment filled with cockroaches and rats, and that is if you're lucky? Do you think it is awesome to be addicted to all sorts of drugs, always thirsty for liquor you can't afford, so that you'll be forced to sell your body on the streets? Do you think that is _awesome_ , Mr. Beilschmidt?"

Gilbert actually didn't see that much wrong with his description, but he wisely kept his trap shut. And how did Mr. Kirkland know so much about being a rock star?

"Now, seeing as you're not one of my own, I can't stop you from throwing your life away if that is what you so desperately desire. My own son however, will not become a rock star."

Arthur was gripping his fork so tightly it almost bent over.

"You can't stop me from doing what I want," came his defiant voice.

Henry cocked an eyebrow, looking unamused at his youngest' persistence.

"We have gone through this many times Arthur, and I will not say it again. You are not becoming a musician. That is simply out of the question. If you hadn't magically shielded that unholy instrument of yours, I would have thrown it away a long time ago."

Arthur shot up, chair loudly scraping over the wooden floor.

"Can I be excused?" he asked with gritted teeth, taking deep breathes to try and control his anger.

Henry was about to follow his lead and stand up, but his wife laid a hand on his elbow to stop him. She then looked at Arthur with a gentle expression.

"You may leave," she said, urging him to make his escape now that he still had the possibility to do so.

Arthur pulled Gilbert along with him and ushered him out of the room, wanting to create as much distance between him and his father as possible.

Anglia used a napkin to dap at her plump lips before taking a sip of wine. She knew her son and grandson's stubbornness all too well, for it was her own. But where _her_ anger came out in a much more calm and collected way, her boys simply exploded. It was best for Arthur to avoid such subjects around Henry as much as possible, for they were both very well-disciplined when it came to their knowledge of magic. And Anglia would much rather have the house stay in one piece.

With a sigh she set down her glass. Another regular day at the Kirkland residence. And right when she finally got to see one of Arthur's friends. She had already heard stories of the Japanese boy and the American brothers, but this specimen was new. Oh well, if Arthur didn't want to share such matters, that was in his own good right. She only hoped he wasn't hiding any secrets from his grandmother.

"Darling, don't you think you could give it a rest?" Jane tried to soothe her husband.

"Nonsense Jane! The boy needs to learn that starting a band has absolutely no future!"

Henry sighed and closed his eyes.

"You know I only want what's best for him."

"Of course dear."

The brothers had tuned out their conversation, already being more than familiar with the occasional discussion about their sibling's choice of career. In fact, almost every aspect of the boy's life had been talked about at least once at this very table.

The siblings didn't care much for such discussions. Yes, they too wanted what was best for their brother, but they also knew that sometimes it was better to let him be. Arthur was already eighteen years old, it was time for him to make his own decisions.

The brothers of course would never tell Arthur this, but the blond was actually quite coddled among them. It was a secret they had pledged to keep, not wanting their baby brother thinking his siblings were actually tender-hearted when it came to him.

xoxox

"I don't believe him!" Arthur raged, throwing books around like there was no tomorrow.

Gilbert sat on his bed and watched in silent amazement, making sure Gilbird didn't get hurt by the rampaging Brit. The bird was still fast asleep, the effects of the spell not having ended just yet.

The albino waited patiently for his friend to finish this little tantrum, knowing there wouldn't be much talking to him as long as the boy was ready to see blood.

The books were not so happy with the attention, but Arthur had a spell to easily put them back in their correct spaces as soon as he was finished throwing them around.

After fifteen minutes or so, the Brit finally calmed down a bit. He flopped onto his bed, panting after having released that much tension.

"Ist alles in Ordnung?" the werewolf asked, ears turning towards the blond in curiosity.

Arthur nodded, somehow understanding what the albino was saying to him.

"I'm sorry you had to witness that," he said, cheeks turning a shameful red.

This was the first time Gilbert had ever visited his home, and then to be met by a father-son discussion and his host having an anger fit? Now that simply wouldn't do.

"Nah, don't worry about it. I'm way too awesome to be bothered by such petty things!"

Arthur snorted.

"Still, I apologize."

He then sat up again, looking at his half-destroyed room.

"I'll clean that up first, and then I'll bring in the extra mattress. You can sleep in my bed if you want to-"

Gilbert cut him off with a short barking laughter.

"No way! This is your room, you sleep in your bed."

Arthur straightened his figure.

"It is my duty as a gentleman to lend you my bed."

Gilbert smirked, rubies flickering playfully.

"If you're the gentleman, does that make me the Fräulein in this situation?"

It took a moment for the Brit to understand that remark. As soon as he did though, he flushed a dark crimson.

"Wha- What are you saying you bloody dog? I didn't mean it like that, I-"

Gilbert was laughing that obnoxious mix between a howl and a bark again, harshly slapping the Brit on his back.

"I was just teasing! Geez, your Vater really stresses you out huh?"

Arthur frowned angrily.

"That wasn't funny! I'm much too tired to be dealing with such jokes, you dog."

"You weren't that tired when you stormed away from the dining room. I didn't even get to finish my food!"

Arthur deflated and was about to apologize once again, but Gilbert laid a paw over his mouth to stop him.

"But I did hear something rather interesting. So little Ari wants to become a rock star huh?"

The mage slapped at the fingers covering his lips.

"Do not ever call me that, unless you want me to turn you into a girl!"

Gilbert almost fell on the floor from the laughter that erupted next.

"Why a girl?" he snickered, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Although, male or female, I'll always be awesome."

"Oh shut it!" Arthur grumbled, although a light smile did find its way to his face.

"No but really, about that rock star-thing. Did you mean it?"

Arthur sighed in frustration.

"Of course I meant it, I wouldn't be fighting with my father if it weren't for that!"

Gilbert grinned widely, red orbs holding a knowing mien to them.

"So what are you waiting for?"

Arthur stared at him for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, my dearest Ari-" He ducked to avoid a punch before continuing his explanation. "Why wait until after graduation? If you want to be a rock star, why not start now?"

Arthur leant back to study the wolf's face, arms crossed in front of his chest.

"What are you getting at?" he asked, the beginning of an idea starting to form in his head.

"I am saying: you have a guitar. I have a drum set. I know that if we ask Antonio, he'll join without hesitation – he has a guitar as well. We have all we need to start a band. So why not just do it? And I heard you a moment ago; you're definitely good enough to be in a band."

Arthur wanted to say the plan was preposterous, a huge waste of time. But then the thought grew, became something more palpable, something that maybe, _maybe_ , could become reality.

His mouth slid into a wider grin.

Yes. He certainly liked this idea.

Emerald clashed with ruby, the mutual understanding combining their souls in that moment.

"Mr. Beilschmidt," Arthur said, in an exact imitation of his father's voice.

"I think we have ourselves an agreement."

And with that mage and werewolf shook the other's hand, sealing the deal.

The future starts now!

xoxox

1) Anglia is the personification of Britannia.

Words:

Rot: Red (German)  
Nein Danke: No thank you  
Fräulein: Miss  
Ist alles in Ordnung?: Is everything all right?  
Vater: Father


	3. Chapter 3: Emerald

Chapter 3: Emerald

 **Some info on the werewolves, how they transform, and their appearances (for those of you who like lore). Werewolves have three states of appearances, I guess I'll call them. During the night, they look like humans with ears and a tail. During the day, they look like regular humans (but under normal circumstances they are asleep then, so no one cares). Only when the full moon arrives do they transform into full-fledged wolves.**

 **I said before that werewolves can be created either through birth or biting. If a wolf gets born, they start out as puppies and only gain their human forms later on. If he or she is bitten, then they obviously already have their human form but obtain their wolf form after the first full moon. Both means of transformation have their own advantages and disadvantages. Being born as a wolf means you are more adapted to the life in the monster society, and you have better instincts. Being introduced to the society as an ex-human means you need more time to adapt and are a little less in contact with your wolf-side, but you are better at social conventions and self-control than the wolf pups.**

 **Werewolves normally live in packs. If a human gets bitten, he or she joins the pack of the wolf that bit them. Once they are fully grown, they can either leave the pack to start their own or stay to strengthen the already existing pack. Both new-borns and newly transformed humans are referred to as pups.**

 **And last but not least: where do Gilbert and Ludwig fit in? Well, while Ludwig is Alfher's biological son (the alpha of this pack), Gilbert started out as a human and got transformed by Alfher. You'll have to see for yourself how this will affect the story. ;)**

xoxox

Gilbert Beilschmidt was lying on top of his bed, the volume of his iPod (a gift from a long time ago) turned all the way up and almost blasting out his sensitive eardrums. Not that he thought that would actually happen, as his ears were way too awesome to be damaged by such petty things as loud music.

The albino grinned at nothing in particular, eyes closed. His feet were hanging over the edge of the mattress, swaying along with the rhythm of the song. His hands (sorry, _paws_ ) were making complicated gestures in the air, trying to duplicate the movements the drummer was supposedly making. He was singing terribly out of tune, but didn't give one single damn. He knew he could sing well if he tried, but what was the fun in that?

Gilbert didn't notice it when the door to his room was opened, too occupied by his fantasies.

"Bruder," Ludwig tried to call him, but to no avail.

The blond sighed and walked over to his sibling. He pulled out the earplugs, earning him an obnoxious whine.

"Oi West, what did you do that for? That is so un-awesome!"

The two brothers had gotten to calling each other West and East, since they were the oldest pups of their pack and Gilbert said that deserved cool nicknames. Ludwig simply let him do as he wished, knowing he wouldn't just drop the matter once he set his mind to it.

Ludwig crossed his arms, irritation oozing from his tense shoulders and harsh glare.

"Gilbert, would you care to explain to me why there are a bunch of people standing in the garage?"

Gilbert blinked, and then grinned widely. He immediately leapt off the bed, all excited little barks and wags of the tail.

"Right, I forgot! The auditions for the band are today! Thanks for warning me West!"

Ludwig groaned.

"Bruder, what do you mean by 'band auditions'? What did you do this time?"

The albino paid no attention to the disapproving tone in his voice. He quickly shot on a pair of ragged jeans, thinking it best not to go down in his underwear – although it would be fun to see their reactions.

"Didn't I tell you? Me and Artie are starting a band! Auditions are today. You can come watch us if you'd like."

"No, I have an appointment with Feliciano… Wait, does Alfher know about this?"

Gilbert snorted.

"Of course not! You think he'd let us use the garage if he knew?"

Ludwig shifted nervously.

"East, I don't want you getting into trouble again. Remember how angry he was when he found out about you-know-who?"

Gilbert froze, hand on the doorknob. His eyes glazed over, as if lost in far-away memories and dreams of a land covered in forget-me-nots. Just as quickly as his good mood had disappeared, it came back. Gilbert grinned widely at his little brother.

"Don't worry about it West! It's just for this once, we'll find another place after today. Are you coming or not?"

Ludwig sighed.

"I guess I am, but just to make sure that those people don't destroy our furniture. I have to leave in fifteen minutes though."

They went down the stairs (Gilbert running and Ludwig marching). Gilbird joined them along the way, settling on top of Gilbert's head, which seemed to be the bird's favourite spot nowadays.

The albino swung the door to the garage open with a loud cackle.

"Have no fear, the Awesome Me has arrived!"

He immediately had to regain his balance after Antonio swung himself around his neck.

"Hola amigo! I was afraid we had come at the wrong time! Lovi was already thinking of sneaking off with his girlfriend~" the Spaniard said cheerfully.

"No I wasn't!" came a reply from the far-right corner of the room, the Italian's face beet red and Emma giggling next to him.

There were a lot of people gathered here today, since many students at the school knew how to play an instrument. Not all instruments were needed in a rock band, but Gilbert and Arthur figured they'd just give everyone a try. It would be un-awesome to turn them down without even giving them a chance, as Gilbert said.

The albino scanned the room. Antonio had brought his acoustic guitar, Lovino was just there to give moral support to both the Spanish coco and his Belgian girlfriend (who had brought a saxophone), Sadik had shown up with a guitar as well, Arthur's friend Lukas brought his violin, Im Yong Soo also had a guitar, Jack (an Australian demon who could talk to animals) even brought his didgeridoo. Roderich was there as well, but he left as soon as Gilbert told him there was no piano to play. The Dane Mathias was also sent away after being told that an axe was not an instrument. Francis, even though he didn't have an instrument, stayed, but only because he was a part of the Bad Touch Trio.

Gilbert saw Elizabeta sitting in the corner with a camera, but before he could approach her, his crimson orbs caught sight of Arthur.

The mage was wearing a leather jacket, fingerless gloves on his hand, tight-fitting pants showing off his slender legs and a bandana with the flag of the United Kingdom on it around his neck. Despite his usual frown, the werewolf could see the nervous excitement on the other's face.

Gilbert grinned and made his way through the crowds.

"Artie, you made it! And I see you dressed up for the occasion?"

Arthur snorted but averted his eyes, hiding a bashful little smile.

"So you're ready I suppose?"

Gilbert nodded and pulled the other to the back of the garage, where he already made some room for his drums.

"Hey losers, shut up for a sec!"

Everyone ceased their chattering and turned to look at the two. Arthur couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious under the staring, but wasn't planning on showing it.

Ludwig made use of this short moment of rest to slip away. After checking if everyone had wiped their feet before entering, of course.

"We're happy you all could come, ten points of awesomeness added to your score!"

"Get on with it!" Lovino shouted from his seat on the ground.

Gilbert absently waved at him while rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. Wouldn't want to keep you waiting. So, this is how it goes. You guys are just gonna come up here one by one, and play a short number with us. The one who plays best, wins! Simple enough for you lame-os?"

They spat out a few goodhearted boos for good measure, impatient to get started.

"All right then! Let the auditions begin for 'The Awesome Gilbert and his Less Awesome Gang'!"

The garage went completely silent after that.

Arthur face-palmed.

"Is that the name of your band?" Sadik snickered.

"Mon ami, you must be joking," Francis laughed.

Gilbert planted his hands on his hips.

"Oh? And why do I have to be joking? It's an awesome name!"

Immediately everyone started talking again.

"No way am I joining a band with such a stupid name!"

"I know right? The wolf's being way too much of a narcissist again!"

"We want a better name!"

Arthur sighed heavily and walked forward, shoving Gilbert out of the way.

"All right then, listen up! The person who comes up with a better name gets to do his audition first!"

They all began spouting names at random after his words.

"What about 'Bloody Mary'?"

"Bands originated in South-Korea, da ze!"

"'The Outsmarts'! Or no, 'The Outwings'!"

"It should have tomatoes in it, like my precious Lovi~"

"Shut up, you bastard!"

"Name it 'The Avengers'!"

"No way, that's already a movie!"

"It is?"

"'The Outskirts', 'The Outwhites', 'The Outings', …"

"What about 'Darude Sandstorm'?"

"That's not original at all!"

They finally stopped when Lovino spoke up again.

"Just call yourself 'The Outlaws', or 'The Outcasts' or something! You're a bunch of jerks anyway!"

Gilbert began wagging his tail again, while Arthur thoughtfully tapped his chin.

"…You know, I actually sort of like that idea." He smirked at the Italian. "Seems like you're a muse to the core after all, Lovino."

The teen flipped him off before returning his attention to Emma, who had joined Elizabeta in looking at some very suspiciously pink magazine.

"All right then, one of those it is!" the albino cackled. "We'll decide as soon as we have a full band! And since Lovino doesn't play an instrument, I guess that means Antonio can go first?"

xoxox

"I wouldn't make out with you for all the money in the world!" the mage snarled, after which he slammed his plate down on their table in the cafeteria. Alfred and Matthew looked up from their discussion, or whatever they had been doing before Arthur and Francis arrived.

Francis sat down beside him, draping an arm over his shoulders (which was immediately shrugged off). He of course had no food, seeing as incubi fed off of sex and lustful feelings and thoughts.

Incubi and succubae were strange creatures really; their powers worked in a rather peculiar way. These demons had figured out long ago that seducing humans and other monsters was too much work. So they came up with another way to get their needed nutrition, namely attacking while their prey is asleep.

How does this work: once the prey of choice is in deep enough slumber, the demon can alter his or her dreams. The victim will start seeing images that are exciting to them and them alone, and arousal is always soon to follow. The sex demons can live off of such horny dreams and thoughts, only needing proper sex if they want a power boost. The deed of sexual intercourse is like consuming an energy drink to them, while mere thoughts and dreams are enough to get them through each day. The victim doesn't necessarily have to be asleep for such thoughts to have effect; if they think about sex while awake it provides the demon with energy as well. But most people keep themselves from having such fantasies when they know an incubus or succubus is around, so the creatures have to resort to other ways. The mind is much easier to manipulate when resting, after all~

Both incubi and succubae have these powers, as the only difference between the two is their gender, and the fact that succubae usually have wings while incubi only have a tail. You can be friends with them. You just have to keep from thinking perverted thoughts in order not to make yourself a target. Unless you want to be one, of course. Sex demons are said to be quite a good lay.

However, since neither of Arthur and his friends ever wanted to have sex with Francis – except Gilbert that one time when he was drunk, but that had just been a one-night stand – the demon sought his food elsewhere. Of course, that didn't keep him from trying every now and then.

"Mais mon petit lapin, there would be no strings attached! Just a little kiss could never hurt. I would get what I need, and you would get the best kiss of your life. How can you possibly deny l'amour?"

"It's not 'l'amour' if al you're thinking about is bloody sex, you wine-loving bastard!" Arthur seethed, opening his can of Pepsi with such force the drink spat in all directions.

"Easy on the booze Iggy!" Alfred snickered.

Arthur shot a deadly glare at him, emerald eyes blazing.

"You keep your mouth shut Jones, I am not in the mood to be dealing with two bags of pestilence!"

Alfred pouted while Francis laughed, unperturbed by the insult.

"One day I will have you, mon petit. Now, can you think of something sexy for a while? If you will not kiss me, won't you at least do that for me?"

Arthur could only just stop himself from imagining himself kissing the French monster. If only the frog knew just how badly he wanted to lock lips him… But not like this. Not as one of the many trophies he could add to his list. Arthur refused to do it unless if meant something. And since Francis could only think about sex, that day would never come.

Gilbert arrived just in time to save his mood from growing even darker.

"The Awesome Me is here! Everyone start freaking out!"

Matthew shook his head, Arthur rolled his eyes, and the other three just roared with laughter.

"So Artie, did you think about the names for the band?" the albino then asked, before taking a huge bite out of a spicy meatball sandwich.

"Yes, but I can't quite decide…"

Alfred perked up.

"That reminds me, how did the auditions go Saturday?"

Gilbert grinned and turned to look at him.

"They went awesome! Antonio is now our second guitarist, and we got Emma to sing for us! Gotta have at least one chick in the band, right?" he said with a wink.

"Awesome!" Alfred exclaimed. "Hey, I ran into Feliciano earlier, and he said he would be happy to give you guys some inspiration!"

Gilbert's eyes lit up at that.

"Great! Lovino will definitely help too now that both Tonio and his girlfriend are in our band, so that means twice as much help! Now the songs will practically write themselves!"

"We still have a lot of work if we want to perform at the prom," Arthur commented.

"You want to play there?" Matthew asked, interested.

"Yes, but I don't know if we have enough time…"

"It'll be fine!" Gilbert cackled, slapping the Brit harshly on the back. "With our skills and their support, it'll be as easy as a summer breeze!"

"Welp, good luck I guess!" Alfred laughed.

"We'll need it," Arthur grumbled, although a cocky grin did hide at the edges of his mouth. The werewolf had once again managed to lift his spirits.

xoxox

Words:

Rouge: Red (French)  
Hola amigo: Hello friend  
Mais mon petit lapin: But my little bunny


	4. Chapter 4: Verdant

Chapter 4: Verdant

Arthur carefully snuck down the stairs, pausing when something creaked under his foot. He perked his ears, but no one seemed to react to the sound. He carefully re-adjusted the strap of the bag containing his guitar, before continuing his ascend. He was almost at the front door when a voice made him jerk to a halt.

"And where do you think you're going with that?"

Arthur spun on his heels to look at the owner of the voice. It happened to be Patrick, who was holding a box of cigarettes between roughened fingers. Arthur scowled at him.

"Bloody hell Patrick, you almost gave me a heart attack! And you're going to give yourself one too if you smoke that inside!"

Patrick shrugged and played with his lighter.

"Don't worry about me, I was just on my way outside. Wouldn't want Nana glaring me to death." (Nana being their grandmother.)

Patrick's green eyes glimmered and he flashed a lob-sided smile.

"Tell you what _Ari_. You don't talk about my new hobby, and I won't tell them you're going to see your boyfriend."

Arthur felt the temperature rising to his cheeks.

"For the last time, he's not my boyfriend! Can't a guy have friends of the same sex anymore?!"

Patrick laughed mockingly.

"Right, right. Just keep telling yourself that boyo. That still doesn't explain you sneaking around the house like a burglar. Or why you're taking that thing with you."

Arthur nervously wiggled his toes in his pointed boots.

"Just felt like playing a bit without the Old Man yelling at me all the time."

Patrick's grin deflated, and for a long and anxious moment, Arthur was afraid his brother knew about the band. Then they could hear a door open somewhere above them.

The brothers jumped, immediately forgetting about their conversation.

"All right, time to go," Patrick said hastily, ushering him out the door.

Arthur looked back at him with raised eyebrows, but Patrick made an impatient movement with his hand.

"Just get out of here now that you still can, and make sure to keep your mouth shut about my smoking. Got it?"

Arthur smiled gratefully and nodded, before sprinting out the gates. Patrick sighed and made his way around the house, searching for a spot where he knew he couldn't be seen or smelt.

The boys never noticed a hidden figure peering after them from a window on the third floor.

xoxox

Arthur impatiently rang the doorbell to Antonio's house. They had agreed on rehearsing here, since the Spaniard had a rather large basement with lots of space.

Antonio lived in a large villa, earthy colours and pleasant greenery concealing the true nature of his species. Arthur conjured up a miniature sun to take in his surroundings. He let the light shine on a fountain with turtles, the decorated entrance to a stable (everyone knew Antonio had a pet bull), expensive looking mosaic tiles leading up to the door and orange trees, softly letting their branches sway in what felt like a soft summer breeze. Winter seemed to have no power here, and the mage briefly wondered if the coco had let a magic user work on his family's garden.

Arthur looked up from his watch when he heard the door slide open, and began saying hello when the words instantly died on his tongue.

In front of him stood a naked Francis, one single rose covering his private area.

"What the-"

Arthur was so startled he stumbled backwards and tripped over his own feet, sending him to the ground with a painful thud. The sun instantly vanished, leaving them both shrouded in darkness.

In a flash the incubus was gone, replaced by a kneeling Antonio. Worry was written all over his face.

"Ah, lo siento Arthur. I was just practising my scare-tactics for a bit. I didn't startle you too much, did I? Do you feel like you could pass out? Faint in the head? Dizzy? Does your heart hurt?"

Arthur blinked and shook his head, trying to chase away the disturbing mental images.

"Antonio? Might I ask why you chose to become that blasted sex demon? … _Naked_?"

The coco grinned sheepishly, blissfully unaware of Arthur's true reaction to his so-called 'scare-tactic'.

"I thought, since you two fight all the time, and you always say you don't want to kiss him, that would be a surprise for sure!"

"A surprise indeed," Arthur mumbled. _'Only not in the way you intended.'_

Antonio offered the mage a hand and helped him stand.

"Anyway, what can I help you with amigo?" the Spaniard then cheerfully said.

Arthur dusted off his jacket and pointed at his guitar.

"Band practice. That was today, right?"

Antonio blinked before his smile fell.

"Oh, didn't we tell you? Gilbert couldn't make it and Lovi and Feli were busy as well, so we decided to delay it until later in the week."

Arthur immediately scowled.

"What? That blasted wolf, he should've told me! Is he at home now?"

"Yes, but-"

"I'll go tell him what I think about his behaviour right this instant! Stupid dog, not even warning me…"

And with that Arthur stormed off, not giving the Spaniard another glance.

"Ah, wait!" Antonio called after him, but Arthur was already too far for him to hear. Antonio awkwardly scratched his head. "I think I should've told him why Gilbert can't come," he mused.

A couple of streets further, Arthur was already racing up to the werewolf's front door. Gilbert's house was strikingly different from Arthur's humble abode (*cough*mansion*cough*). From the outside, it looked just like any other house in the street. Boring square grey walls, a steel mailbox hanging next to a leaden door, an equally square garage box right next to the small three-story building. The windows didn't have drapes hanging in front of them, but the wolf family had created makeshift ones out of carton and a lot of duct tape. With a job as gym teacher and A LOT of mouths to feed, Alfher Beilschmidt didn't have much choice when it came to decoration.

Arthur impatiently rammed his finger onto the doorbell, ready to give the albino a mouthful. He could hear several locks being undone, before Ludwig carefully peeked outside.

"Ah, Gute Nacht Arthur. Is there anything I can help you with?" Ludwig asked, opening the door a little further after finding out who the visitor was.

"Bloody right there is- Ah, my apologies Ludwig. Didn't mean to shout at you like that." Arthur cleared his throat and started over, this time at a much calmer tone. "I would like to speak with Gilbert. Is he upstairs?"

Ludwig nodded slowly, but didn't move. He frowned and looked at the ground, as if deep in thought.

"Well, if he's there, would you mind letting me in?" Arthur insisted, wondering what made the German act the way he did.

"East is… _unwell_ ," Ludwig said, putting a suspicious amount of stress on the word.

"He's sick? What with?"

For some reason, the wolf started blushing. What on earth could be embarrassing about being sick? It happened to all of them every once in a while. Except maybe the demons, as far as Arthur knew he hadn't ever seen a sick demon. Sick as in ill that is, for Francis was as sick as a creature could get in the mage's opinion.

"He uh… How do I explain this…" Ludwig shook his head and straightened his back. "Either way, I don't think now is a good time to visit him. I suggest you come back at a later moment."

Before he could close the door on Arthur though, they heard a voice calling from upstairs.

"West? Who's that at the door?"

Arthur listened carefully to the albino's voice, but it didn't seem hoarse or thick to him. Probably nothing to do with the throat, nose or lungs then.

"East, get back to your room," Ludwig shouted back. Instead of listening to his brother, Gilbert's hunched figure suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs. He instantly started grinning the moment his piercing crimsons fell upon the blond.

"Hey, Artie! You came to visit?"

"Came to remind you of band practice," Arthur corrected him.

Ludwig watched their exchange with growing concern, his tail between his legs and his ears tense.

"Ah shit!" Gilbert exclaimed, slapping a hand against his forehead. "I totally forgot to tell you! Entschuldigung, Spatz."

"Seeing as you're not sick enough to be bed-ridden, mind if I come up for a moment?"

Ludwig immediately opened his mouth to protest, but Gilbert cut him off with a hand gesture. He stared out at nothing for a few seconds, ear tips pointed upwards and mouth forming a straight line. Then he nodded.

"Yeah, you can come up. West, let him in."

"East-"

"I said _let him in_ ," Gilbert repeated, smiling reassuringly.

Arthur could do nothing but raise an eyebrow at the brothers' strange behaviour. Oh well, at least he could finally enter now. It was a tad chilly outside, seeing as the winter season was about to commence.

Arthur climbed the stairs and followed his friend to his bedroom. It was a small room, but the walls were so filled to the brink with posters and piles of books that you would have thought it small regardless of its real size.

"What's in those?" the mage asked, nodding at the rows and rows of what seemed like handwritten journals.

Gilbert followed his gaze and hummed.

"Diaries. And no, not the girly kind!" he said when Arthur failed to hide a snort. "I'll have you know that _my_ diaries are awesome!"

Arthur observed the rest of the room as Gilbert sat down in a desk chair. It was surprisingly tidy for a wolf like Gilbert. No clothes were spread over the floor, the bed was made, and the only mess he could see was a weird sticky stain of what looked like ice cream on his mouse pad. His desk was decorated with several photographs, most of which contained the Bad Touch Trio on one of their mischievous outings. There was one photo of Gilbert with a man Arthur didn't recognize, but he knew better than to pry. Gilbert had made a little nest of newspaper and cotton balls on his night stand, where Gilbird the chick was currently taking a nice nap. His drum sets weren't here, but Arthur knew he preferred to keep them stored away in the garage (the pack didn't have a car, so there was plenty of room down there).

"It occurs to me that I've never seen your room before," Arthur commented.

The werewolf nodded, but made no further remark. He seemed oddly distracted by something, and was even more squirmish than usual. He kept moving his chair from side to side, and when he finally held the damned thing still, he took on the irritating habit of crossing and uncrossing his legs. First the left leg came over the right knee, then he spun his chair some more, and when he stopped it was the right leg's turn.

"Will you stop that?" Arthur asked when he'd finally grown tired of the incessant movements.

Gilbert ceased his swinging, but immediately began tapping his feet against the floor.

"So, what's up?" the wolf then asked, unconsciously keeping up his agitating behaviour.

"Band practice, remember?" Arthur reminded him.

"You can sit down, you know," Gilbert interrupted the mage.

"Thank you," Arthur sighed. He was never one to just make himself at home anywhere he came.

Arthur tentatively took place at the edge of Gilbert's bed, not taking notice of how those glowing rubies closely followed his every movement.

"As I was saying, band practice. I went over to Antonio's house, and he said you were held up or something? So I came here to check on you. Not that I was worried or anything!" the mage quickly added, ears turning a slightly embarrassed red. Arthur also wasn't the type to just let others know how much he cared for them.

Gilbert snickered, but then grew serious.

"Yeah, I apologize again. I really should've let you know too, since we're the ones that started this whole thing. Sorry, Engel."

Arthur huffed to hide a pleased smile.

"Apologies accepted, you dog."

Gilbert grinned widely, after which he once more spun his chair around.

"But seriously though, are you sick?" Arthur asked, trying his hardest to resist the urge to shoot forward and grab that blasted piece of furniture to hold it still.

"Ah, more or less," Gilbert avoided the question. "It's a wolf-thing," he explained, after seeing Arthur's frown deepen in discontent.

"Explain," Arthur commanded, crossing his arms. "It's not because I'm a mage that I won't be able to understand your troubles."

Gilbert chewed on his lower lip, feet doing a crazed little tap-dance. Arthur finally lost his patience and got up, after which he harshly grabbed Gilbert's knees to hold them still.

"And would you quit it?! It's really tiring to watch!"

Gilbert tensed the moment his knees were captured. His legs instantly ceased their movements, and he looked down with a shocked expression on his face.

"Ah… Sorry, I'll stop."

Arthur nodded approvingly and took his place on the bed again. Gilbert indeed stopped moving around so restlessly, but his limbs did twitch every now and then, as if aching with nervous energy.

"Now please, Gilbert. Do explain what illness you have."

Gilbert's eyes shot around, looking for a way out.

"It's uh… Well, it's definitely something only wolves have… Although Francy-pants does resemble us when we're like that," he muttered as an afterthought.

At the mention of that name, Arthur's thoughts immediately shot to the incubus, to those seductive blue eyes and that purring accent, and the 'scare-tactic' Antonio had tried using on him earlier that night…

"Stop."

Arthur blinked and looked up, quickly chasing away the images. Was Francis ever going to let him be?

Gilbert was completely tense once more. His nose was scrunched up, his eyes glimmering with an emotion Arthur couldn't quite place, and his nails were digging themselves into the fabric of his sweatpants. And sweatpants were exactly what the wolf needed, because only now did Arthur notice the glistening drops on the wolf's lips, and the dark pools under his armpits. He hadn't paid attention to it at first, but Gilbert was in fact really sweaty, and he reeked of it too.

"Stop what?" the blond asked, body leaning forward on its own accord. As if instinctively reacting to that, Gilbert pushed his own body against the back of the chair.

"That," the wolf growled. It wasn't an angry growl, more… nervous?

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Arthur sighed, shifting around some more.

He was starting to grow a little uncomfortable under the way those eyes honed in on him, studied him as if he were delicious prey. Maybe Gilbert was in hunting-mode? Maybe that was the 'sickness' he had tried to describe?

The wolf slowly and deliberately licked his lips when Arthur let out another long-drawn breath. His eyelids dropped, half-concealing his flaming jewels with widened pupils. He leant forward, or maybe slackened was a better word, and if he were a cat, he probably would be rumbling like a motorboat by now.

"Gilbert? You're acting a little… odd," Arthur admitted, crossing his arms once more as if to protect his chest. Maybe he really was trying to protect himself, maybe his body took up the signals his human mind couldn't detect.

"Odd?" Gilbert breathed. He sounded like he was in a place far, far away from here, and had only left a husk of his body behind. A husk which was really starting to freak Arthur out.

"Yes, very odd. You uh… You're not hungry or anything, are you?"

Gilbert lightly frowned, as if not understanding the question. He was still leaning forward, and his legs were now trembling, making it look like he was getting ready to pounce. His breathing was heavy, sounding like he could start panting any moment now.

Arthur suddenly stood up, no longer feeling at ease here.

"I think I should leave."

Gilbert moved with him, and when Arthur tried to open the door, he put a hand against the surface and slammed it shut.

"Why would you leave?" the Prussian purred, still in that strange state of mind.

Arthur defensively put his hands up and moved back.

"I'm warning you, Gilbert. You are my friend, but if you keep up this behaviour, I will have no choice but to curse you."

The defensive movements only seemed to provoke the albino further, as he suddenly surged forward and tackled the mage onto the bed.

"Gilbert!" Arthur shrieked, heart speeding up and sending a wave of adrenaline through his veins.

The wolf was successfully pinning him down on his back, and Arthur could feel hot breath on his neck. He squeezed his eyes shut when the other moved closer, distress not allowing him to remember any means of self-defence.

However, instead of teeth, he suddenly became aware of the Prussian's tongue on his neck, trailing up and down the flesh. Gilbert was drooling on him, as if thoroughly enjoying the taste. His skin felt hotter than the sun and he was actually _whimpering_ while he was _licking_ at his neck.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Arthur shouted, and Gilbert finally seemed to snap back to reality.

The wolf shot up, still straddling the mage's hips. His eyes grew wide with astonishment the moment he realized where he was and who he was with, and more importantly, what he had been on the verge of doing.

Gilbert wasted no time in getting off of his friend, crashing to the ground in his haste. Arthur shot up as well, after which he scooted back and pressed himself flush against the wall. His hand quickly found his wand, and he clutched it like it was a life-belt. Gilbert stared up at him, expression shocked and ashamed.

"Es tut mir leid!" he exclaimed, before quickly scrambling up. He glanced around, as if looking for something. His ears where lying flat on his scalp, and his hands kept pulling at the base of his (now sweat-soaked) shirt.

"I uh, I'll be right back!"

And with that the wolf ran outside, leaving Arthur to calm down on his own. The green-eyed mage apprehensively got off the bed as soon as he could breathe normally again, and he cautiously snuck out after him.

"Gilbert?" he called, glancing down the empty hallway.

The teen could hear muffled sounds coming from the bathroom, and his feet started walking towards it on their own accord. Arthur's heart thumped in his chest as he snuck closer to the door and placed his ear against the plywood surface. He could now clearly hear muttered obscenities ("Scheiße… Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße!"), over the sound of running water. And then there was… Wait a minute… Was that- was Gilbert…. moaning?

Arthur instantly stepped back the moment a loud and clear growl cut through the door. He slapped a hand over his mouth and his cheeks paid a visit to blush central.

Gilbert wasn't hungry, nor had he seen Arthur as a prey. Well, not that kind of prey at least.

Gilbert was in heat.

It all made so much sense now. Ludwig's awkward avoidance of the topic, the sweating, the restless shifting, why he stayed at home, why Gilbert had told him to stop the moment he started thinking about Francis… Being a wolf, he could probably smell every mood-change Arthur underwent. How embarrassing!

Arthur was more than glad he'd successfully made Gilbert come to his senses before it was too late. He wasn't exactly keen on having sex with a lust-driven werewolf, especially not one he only saw as a friend.

The only question that remained was: what to do now? One option involved leaving, but that would be cowardly. Gilbert was his friend, so he couldn't just abandon him like that. It would break the guy's heart, make him think that Arthur was now terrified of or repulsed by him. Not only that, they were in the same band and had the same friends, so Arthur was bound to spend more time with him after today. No, he definitely could not leave things like that, even if he felt like running away as fast as possible without looking back.

So Arthur quietly made his way back to the bedroom, sat down on the mattress, and waited for Gilbert to…. finish (oh, how Arthur wished he could erase the memory of him moaning). He folded his hands in his lap and tried to calm down, set on showing the other he wasn't afraid. They were just going to talk it over like adults, and it wouldn't be awkward, no siree, not one single bit.

An exceptionally loud howl cut through the air, and Arthur's blush intensified when he realized what that meant. He prayed Ludwig hadn't heard (even though he knew that couldn't be the case, since wolves had quite a good hearing), and continued his waiting.

Finally, Gilbert re-entered the room. His eyes immediately shot to Arthur, before dropping to the ground. The usually pale creature was now tainted a dark red, both from his earlier escapades and from a high level of shame.

"I'm really sorry Arthur… I didn't mean to- to… You know, do _that_ to you."

Arthur nodded, but didn't say anything. Didn't know what he could possibly say either.

Gilbert quietly shuffled to the other side of the room and sat back down in his chair, making sure there was as much space as possible between their figures.

"I don't usually have friends over when I'm like this," Gilbert explained, voice tiny for once instead of loud and boasting. "Don't want them to think I'm a pervert. Only Francis and Tonio know."

"It's okay," Arthur mumbled, trying not to let his voice tremble. "Just uh… Just know that I don't really plan on doing that with you-"

"Of course not!" Gilbert shouted, his head snapping up to stare at the mage. "I know that! It's just that, when you started thinking about whatever the hell you were thinking about, you gave off a certain smell, and uh… Yeah, I suddenly couldn't control myself anymore. But it won't happen again, I promise! Don't know what came over me, it was just really sudden."

Arthur held his hands up to soothe the distressed werewolf.

"Gilbert, it's all right! I understand! But if you think I'd better leave you while you're like this, just say so okay?"

The albino shook his head.

"I told you, I'm fine now. Just try not thinking about that stuff again, and I'll be able to control myself for the rest of your visit."

Arthur pushed away the imagines that immediately threatened to show up again, and smiled reassuringly at the other.

"Okay. Sorry Gilbert."

"Nein, I should apologize. I really didn't mean to pounce on ya."

Arthur shrugged and looked down at his hands, suddenly not knowing how to continue the conversation. The room was still filled with awkward tension, and he felt the need to say something to chase it away.

"So uh… How does it work? You know, the 'being in heat' stuff. Is it once a year, or…?"

Gilbert smirked. "Are you seriously asking me about that?"

Arthur scowled at him.

"I'm just interested is all! What's the point in being friends with a werewolf if you don't know how they work?"

Gilbert snickered. "I suppose I could tell you. It usually happens only once a year, somewhere in the period from late December to April. It's like our mating season, we just get really sexually active for a short period of time."

It somehow became a lot less awkward when Gilbert talked about it so openly. That was nice.

"It's not like we're not interested in sex at all outside of that period, but I guess it's just our animal side that takes the upper hand then?"

"And what about Ludwig then?"

"Like I said, it can happen anywhere in that period. I just got mine extra early this year, I guess. Most of the time it doesn't bother me all that much, but now it suddenly became really bad for some reason. Ludwig made me stay at home," Gilbert said, rolling his eyes at his brother's overprotective behaviour.

"I guess it makes sense," Arthur mused. "Wouldn't want you jumping the other students," he added with a smirk.

"Yeah, but it's only the ones that smell delicious. Aka, the ones that are in heat as well, or are aroused."

Arthur blushed when Gilbert raised an eyebrow at him.

"I wasn't aroused at all!" he shot back. "And how on earth could you think I smell delicious?! I'm a guy, for heaven's sake!"

Gilbert shrugged.

"I'm bisexual. Guys, girls, it doesn't matter to me at all."

This made Arthur pause, his eyes widening at the blunt confession.

"O-oh… I didn't know."

Gilbert shrugged again.

"It's not like I wear a sign with 'Hey, guess what guys! You can date me too!' Francy-pants and Antonio know, but the others never bothered asking, so I didn't bother telling."

Arthur suddenly felt the almost irresistible urge to tell Gilbert of his own secret. Before he could spill the beans though, they were interrupted by a voice calling from downstairs.

"Das Essen ist fertig!"

The albino grinned at him.

"You staying for dinner, Artie?"

Arthur quickly snapped his mouth shut and stood up.

"I suppose I am, thank you."

As he followed the wolf downstairs, he dismissed the sombre thoughts swirling through his mind.

' _I'll tell him some other time,'_ he promised himself.

xoxox

 **Next time: meet the Beilschmidt pack! (Yeah, there are other pups beside Ludwig and Gilbert.)**

Words:

Lo siento: I'm sorry  
Gute Nacht: Good night (used as in "good morning" or "good afternoon")  
Entschuldigung: Apologies  
Spatz: Sparrow  
Engel: Angel  
Es tut mir leid: I'm sorry  
Scheiße: Fuck/Shit  
Das Essen ist fertig: Dinner is ready


	5. Chapter 5: Olive

Chapter 5: Olive

As soon as Arthur came downstairs, he was stopped by several pairs of unabashed staring eyes. Gilbert appeared by his side, grinning widely.

"Okay you guys! I want you to meet my good friend Artie!"

No one said a word until Ludwig walked in and greeted the mage with a polite nod of the head. After this gesture, the pups immediately began introducing themselves as if their lives depended on it. (1)

There was Theodo, Christoph, Gisil, Ida (the only girl in the pack), and Hartwin, the oldest pup (next to Ludwig and Gilbert of course). A final wolf entered the room, and Arthur couldn't help but notice how much this one resembled Ludwig. The same blond combed back hair, the same piercing blue eyes, even the same stern expression.

"Who are you?" the youngster asked.

"Luddy, don't be rude!" Gilbert laughed.

'Luddy' scowled harshly at him, and for a moment it looked like Gilbert was the younger one of the two and this wolf was his serious senior.

"Don't call me Luddy, Gilbert. It's Luther."

"Aaaw, why not?" the albino pouted.

"It gets confusing!" both Ludwig and Luther answered, and again Arthur found himself gaping at the striking resemblances.

The pups were loudly chattering away when Alfher entered the room. His gaze fell upon their guest, who politely bowed his head.

"Arthur Kirkland, right?" Alfher commented, recognizing him from the gym classes. He never broke eye contact all the while placing a cooking pot in the middle of the table. He scolded Ida for trying to open the lid, and fully turned towards Arthur.

"Yes sir. Gilbert invited me to stay for dinner."

The alpha nodded. "Sit down, then." (He had always been a man of few words.)

"So," Hartwin said, scooting closer to the mage. "Has Gilbert tried jumping you yet?"

Arthur immediately flushed while Gilbert smacked his brother up the head. Hartwin simply snickered.

"It's okay, you can tell us! Everyone in the whole wide world knows Gil's in heat!"

"Hartwin, quiet," Alfher berated the boy. Hartwin rolled his eyes and relaxed in his chair. Even though Gilbert and him weren't brothers by blood, they did resemble each other a lot behaviour-wise. Both playful, obnoxious, yet surprisingly diligent at the right moments.

Nothing else was said about the matter (because apparently, being in heat wasn't such a big deal here, seeing as it was just another part of life as a werewolf). Alfher then finally revealed their meal of tonight: chicken stew. Before anyone could get their share though, he ordered Arthur to hand over his plate.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"Nonsense. You are our guest, you should get the first serving."

Arthur quietly did as he was told. When he saw all those hungry eyes staring at the rather sober meal, he was once again reminded of his family's wealth and the wolves' lack of it. He knew that in wolf packs it was survival of the fittest, so he somehow felt bad about cutting back their already sparse amount of food. Well, they obviously weren't doing that bad, since there were seven pups and an alpha alive, but still.

Ah yes, and about the matter of the alpha: it was clear to all that Ludwig was next in line to take over the pack. Gilbert was technically the oldest, but he'd long since announced that it would be his pleasure to give that right to his younger sibling. Arthur suspected it was also partially due to Gilbert not being born a werewolf, and therefore immediately losing a big amount of authority in the pack. Alfher tried not to favour any of his offspring, but he still often found himself expecting more of the albino than of the others. Gilbert knew, of course. Arthur could tell by the way he talked about his quote-unquote father. He did so with respect, but there was always a certain feel of detachment slipping in. As if Gilbert felt he didn't deserve the right to lead the pack, or maybe he thought that was how Alfher saw it.

And then of course there was also the question of the pup's mother. Gilbert had told all of his friends long ago that she died while giving birth to her final pup, which Arthur now realized had to be Luther. She was supposed to have been a gentle woman, caring over her offspring with the greatest amount of love while still teaching them to take care of themselves. Her name was Wilhelmina, if Arthur could recall correctly. Wilhelmina the beautiful.

As soon as the blond got his dinner, the others all but attacked the pot with stew. Every single member of the pack bantered loudly as they tried getting a hold of their own serving, and Arthur wished he could shrink into his chair.

When he noticed Gilbert wasn't joining the fight, Arthur gave him a nudge with his elbow. The albino turned towards him with raised eyebrows.

"Why are you not getting any?" the mage whispered.

Gilbert shrugged.

"Most of the time I let the others get first pick. You know, because I'm the oldest and all."

"That is… noble of you, Gilbert."

The wolf smiled gently.

"It's probably just because I was once a human, you know. Makes me more polite. HEY THEO, GET YOUR FUCKING FINGER OUT OF YOUR NOSE!"

Arthur snorted. Polite indeed. But it did make sense. Since Gilbert was 'less wolf' than the others, his instincts were a little less overpowering. Well, besides the being-in-heat stuff from earlier…

"So, are you Gilbert's boyfriend?" Gisil asked as soon as he'd gotten his own share.

"No!" Arthur said, frowning heavily at the mere suggestion. Gilbert and him being a couple, please! The wolf's brothers were just as bad as his own when it came to making assumptions.

"We're just friends," Gilbert explained, waving the question away with a gesture of his hand (oh sorry Gil, _paw_ ).

"Then why are you here when he's in heat?" Gisil persisted, eyes big and childish.

"I didn't know he was in heat…" Arthur sullenly replied, scraping his spoon over the bottom of his plate. "Just wanted to pay a visit."

For some reason, Hartwin and Ida where whispering to each other and muffling snickers into their sweaters. But for the life of him, Arthur couldn't figure out what was so funny.

"I apologize if he caused you any trouble," Alfher said, not at all fazed by the behaviour of his offspring.

"Sure did," Hartwin muttered, shooting a playful glance at the mage.

"What's so funny?" Arthur asked, growing irritated.

Ludwig was staring hard-core at his plate, cheeks for some reason a nice pink.

"Oh, so you mean Gil totally didn't just masturbate in the bathroom?" Hartwin replied, grey eyes flickering teasingly.

Arthur's jaw dropped. He had completely forgotten the wolves had probably heard that last howl. It had to have been rather loud, if even he'd been able to hear it while sitting in Gilbert's bedroom.

Arthur, Luther and Ludwig blushed heavily, Gilbert groaned and laid his head on the table, and the pups were nearly in tears with laughter.

"Enough!" Alfher shouted, immediately shutting everyone up. "If you cannot be mature about this, then you are not getting any dinner!"

The pups immediately shovelled the remainder of their food into their mouths, afraid Alfher really would carry out that threat.

The alpha once again turned towards their guest.

"As I said before, I apologize if he caused you any trouble."

Arthur stuttered and put up his hands.

"Not at all! He just, I, he…"

Gilbert finally decided to jump in and save his ass.

"Arthur had nothing to do with that, coach. I just had to relieve some of the tension, you know the drill." (Arthur knew that Gilbert only called him coach because he wasn't his true father).

Alfher frowned. "You should learn to keep your urges under control, Gilbert. This isn't your first heat, and it definitely won't be your last. I can't have you staying at home in an isolated room every time you are going through your period."

Gilbert nodded and leant back in his chair. All this excitement wasn't doing any good to the warmth in his body, and he felt the need to escape to his room again. However, he also wanted to show Arthur and the rest of the pack that he could in fact discipline his body into doing exactly what he wanted it to. So he simply swallowed his complaints back and watched the others finish their meals, trying to keep his brothers (and sister) from asking Arthur any more embarrassing questions.

When everyone was done (yet most far from completely satisfied), Gilbert rose from his chair and got ready to take Arthur back upstairs. However, he was interrupted by one final comment from the alpha.

"You really should think about getting a mate, Gilbert. You are almost graduating."

Gilbert locked eyes with him for the smallest of moments, piercing blue colliding with striking red. Then he nodded, grabbed Arthur by the hand, and dragged him out of the room.

' _Getting a mate my ass,'_ he thought bitterly, but never said a word. He knew exactly what Alfher was referring to. His tail drooped as that one memory once again flashed in front of his inner eyes, that sunny day that had been the last of many…

"Gilbert? Everything all right?"

The wolf looked over his shoulder to find Arthur studying him with a worried expression on his face. Gilbert smiled reassuringly.

"Everything all right, Artie."

He couldn't tell Arthur. Not now, at least. It was his secret, and only a very select few knew about it.

Later, perhaps. But not now.

xoxox

They spent the rest of the night talking and relaxing, Arthur slowly getting over his initial anxiety and letting his nerves wash away by playful grins and conversations about anything and everything. He even played a couple of songs on his guitar, figuring he might as well use it now that he'd brought it over. The songs were accompanied by Gilbert's terrible singing, although Arthur was absolutely certain the wolf did it on purpose to make him laugh.

The distractions also helped in making Gilbert forget about his current state of being. He even almost fell asleep at one point, feeling fully at ease with the mage sitting just a few inches away. He was grateful that Arthur felt comfortable enough to stay, grateful for being allowed to have such amazing (awesome) friends.

They forgot the time while they laughed and sang and reminisced. It even became so late – or perhaps early was a better word in this case – that the first signs of dawn were already breaking through the make-belief curtains.

"Oh, I suppose I should go home," Arthur mused, staring at the rays of sun slipping through the pieces of newspaper. When Gilbert didn't answer, he turned his head to look at him.

Then he just stared.

Instead of a brawny teen with wolf ears and a tail, Gilbert looked just like any other adolescent now (well, except for his eyes and skin complex, of course). His tail had disappeared, and the pointy fuzzy ears had made room for regular human ones.

"What happened to you?" Arthur breathed, eyebrows disappearing behind messy yellow bangs.

Gilbert smiled charmingly.

"Ah, you've never seen me like this, have you? Well Artie, this is what werewolves look like during the day. We're just normal human beings when the sun is out."

Arthur couldn't tear his gaze away. He was so used to those animal features that he often forgot Gilbert was also a man, just like the rest of them.

"Well then… I guess I've seen some sides of you that I have never seen before today?" Arthur stated, not really knowing what to say on the subject.

Gilbert snorted.

"You could say that, yeah."

Arthur put his guitar away and got up.

"I really must be leaving now. When will you get back to school?"

Gilbert shrugged.

"I hope before the week is out. Wouldn't want to miss our gig this Friday, huh?"

"You'd better not!" Arthur warned, failing to hide a smirk.

Arthur was about to open the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He had already turned halfway to look at the other when he felt the smallest of pecks being placed on his left cheek.

"Danke, Engel. For staying. I really didn't want to scare you, and I'm glad you didn't run. Du bistwirklich der fantastischste Freund."

Arthur couldn't help but blush as he tried to resist the urge to rub awkwardly at his cheek.

"You're welcome," he murmured. "We're friends, so that was the least I could do."

Gilbert guided him downstairs, but didn't let Arthur leave before getting a hold of him a second time.

"What is it now?" the blond asked impatiently, not sure if he could handle any more sentiment today.

Gilbert smirked mischievously.

"Hey Artie."

"What?!"

The wolf leant forward and brought his lips to the other's ear.

"You think I'm sexy?"

He then leant back and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Arthur laughed loudly at his stupidity and showed his middle finger before walking off, but he never denied the suggestion.

xoxox

He remembered a wonderful evening.

Instead of going to sleep during the day like he ought to do, being the well-mannered mage that he was, he opted for staying awake that particular day. All day long he bathed in the sun, let the light embrace him like a long-lost friend. The sunset had been beautiful as he stood there on the balcony, letting his frown melt into a pleasant smile and resting his chin delicately on his hand.

The scent of roses had warned him of the presence of another being.

"What are you doing here?" he sighed, not even needing to look up to recognize that distinct chuckle.

"I came to enjoy the view, mon ami."

"Yes, it's quite lovely," Arthur mused, too relaxed to take offense in Francis' unannounced appearance.

A flower was then swished under his nose, forcing him to tear his gaze away from those orange and pink coloured skies.

"For you, mon tresor."

Arthur begrudgingly accepted the blossoming rose offered to him, knowing the gift held no hidden meaning. Never would.

He never asked why Francis had come to visit him that day. Maybe he'd somehow sensed his being awake? Before, Arthur would have seen it as a sign the demon must care about him as more than a friend. He knew better at that moment, and simply tried to enjoy the glances he could steal at those exquisite blue eyes and that confident stance, that look which was always oozing charm and noblesse.

Oh, how he yearned to touch that slightly stubbly chin, to confess all his feelings and more, to be held lovingly into those gentle arms. His love-sick mind knew Francis would be kind, treat him like he would no other.

"Arthur…"

Aaaah, how lovely it would be…

"Arthur!"

The mage almost fell out of his chair when he finally took notice of being addressed. He certainly would have, if not for Lukas saving him – Lukas Bondevik, fellow sorcerer and someone he considered one of the few friends he had among magic users – . Lukas had grabbed his arm just in time to keep him from falling, and those normally lifeless blue eyes held a twinge of concern to them.

"Arthur Kirkland. I know you are from a respected family, and I have absolutely nothing to remark on your grades, but that does not mean you can sleep through my classes."

Arthur awkwardly sat back down in his chair, cheeks red as he muttered a quiet apology to their teacher. The man nodded as a means of saying "apology accepted," after which he continued his talk about 'The Importance of Pronunciation When Casting a Spell.'

"Everything all right?" Lukas asked, eyeing the blond suspiciously.

"It's nothing," Arthur grumbled in response. His mood soured thoroughly the moment he realized his so-called memory hadn't been a memory at all, but a wistful dream projecting his deepest desires. The green-eyed mage sighed, still being able to feel those cool eyes trained on his face, Lukas' gaze calm and collected.

"Francis again?" he stated more than asked, blunt as ever.

Arthur flinched, even though he really should have seen that coming. After all, Lukas was one of the few – if not the only – who knew of his feelings for the incubus. Not because Arthur had told him, good heavens no. He wasn't planning on ever telling a single soul. No, his fellow sorcerer had just more or less… found out. Arthur could only guess at the why or how, but that's what happened. Maybe it was the way Arthur talked about him, maybe the Norwegian had psychic abilities he hadn't told anyone about. Who knows?

The teacher shot a warning glare their way when Arthur opened his mouth to react. The Brit instantly shut it again and waited for the man to return his attention to the blackboard. He quickly scribbled a short message in the corner of his notebook before showing it to Lukas.

 _After class,_ it read.

Lukas nodded almost imperceptibly and didn't say another word until the shrill ringing of the bell filled the classroom.

"And don't forget working on your pronunciation during winter break! I don't want anyone mutilating the growth spell on the test!" teach called over the excited chattering of his students. After this he closed his suitcase and hurried out of the room himself. Tomorrow _was_ the final day of school before a well-deserved and wanted holiday break, and it wasn't going to be spent trapped between four walls and stuffy old books. No, tomorrow it was time for the annual Winter Celebration, a night solely for unwinding and having fun.

"Are you coming?"

Arthur snapped his eyes away from the door through which their teacher had disappeared and looked back at his friend. Lukas still seemed cool and uninterested, but Arthur knew better than to go by appearances. The Norwegian simply wasn't one of those whose feelings could be read like an open book, but he had them nonetheless. No doubt about that.

The two young magic users took refuge in the inner courtyard, where they knew they could talk freely without being disturbed. They settled on a bench, Arthur almost glaring away some stray first-graders when they came wandering too close to his taste.

"It's still not any better?" Lukas asked quietly, playing with the odd curl that always seemed to float next to his head rather than being attached to it.

"Nope," Arthur replied, pulling restlessly at a loose string on his sleeve. "It's been nearly three full bloody years now, and I still can't get the wine-loving wanker out of my head."

His friend hummed in understanding.

"And the distractions don't work?"

By distractions, Lukas was referring to the mage's love for music. Yes, Arthur wanted to be a musician, but he'd initially only started playing the guitar to try and focus on something other than the Frenchman. It rapidly evolved into a true passion of course, and the fact that he could get on his father's nerves also helped a great deal. It was Henry's own fault for always getting on his case, even when his grades were perfect and the boy knew perfectly well what his responsibilities were in this society _and_ in his own family. Henry's fault…

Arthur clenched his hands into fists as a sly smirk worked its way onto his features.

"You know what Lukas? I think I know exactly how to create the perfect distraction for myself."

The other raised his eyebrows, the only indication of his emotions regarding that statement.

"Judging by your tone, it's not something I would encourage you to do. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut, knowing how stubborn you are, it doesn't matter what I think or say. You're going to do it anyway now that you've set your mind to it."

The smirk grew.

"You thought right! Lukas, thank you for listening to me. Now, I have to take my leave right away!"

"Do I even want to know where you are going?"

"No need, you'll see soon enough."

Arthur swung his rucksack onto his back and started heading back for the main hallway.

"Don't do anything you're going to regret!" Lukas said in a final attempt at changing the Brit's mind.

Arthur faltered for just a moment, before laughing whole-heartedly.

"Never, Lukas!"

xoxox

Arthur was deeply regretting his decision.

Currently the mage was lying in a chair, waiting for the customer in the other room to finish screaming. Oh, and I suppose I should tell you he was at the local tattoo and piercings parlour.

Arthur let his gaze wander over the various pictures at the other end of the room, depicting all the different kinds of tattoos one could buy here. There were dragons, hearts with "I love mom," flaming skulls, anchors,… The usual.

Arthur squirmed around uncomfortably when he heard another high-pitched whine.

' _Can't that twat just shut it?'_ he thought bitterly, not feeling the slightest ounce of sympathy for whoever was producing such pitiable sounds. _'If you don't want to be in any pain, then don't get a tattoo, you idiot!'_

Arthur wasn't the slightest bit afraid of the procedure he was about to undergo. This wasn't his first time here, after all. There was already a miniature guitar hidden on his hipbone, a tiny little thing no one knew about. The reason for his doubts was that this time, he wasn't just going to get an invisible little tattoo.

He wanted to get earrings. And not just one little ring-thing, oh no. Arthur wanted his entire ear perforated, wanted at least three colossal black decorations to show off his inner punk. Or, that had been the initial plan.

Now, lying here in this chair, he figured he would just start with one and see where things went after that. Not because he was afraid the earrings wouldn't fit him, or because he was scared of the pain. It was Henry who bothered him. Even though he was already old enough to decide what he should and should not do with his body, Henry would definitely have a heart attack if he showed up with his ear covered in blood and holes. True, Arthur often riled him up just for the heck of it, but he figured having a nagging father was always better than having no father at all.

Arthur sighed. He knew perfectly well this was going to get him into trouble. The tattoo he could get away with, since he never uncovered his hips. This was a lot bigger. He could almost imagine Henry's reaction.

" _Are you out of your bloody mind! Get rid of that blasted thing this instant, or I'll have you scrapped from my last will!"_

Arthur snickered. He could just see Henry fainting at him obliging and just pulling the thing out on the spot, ripping his ear apart in the process. His father would totally forget his abilities to heal the wound almost instantly. Yes… It was worth it just for that to happen.

Finally the curtain was drawn back and the owner stepped inside of his room, drying his freshly washed hands on a paper towel. The man smiled in what was supposed to be a comforting way, but it sort of lost effect when they heard a little pained whimpering noise from the customer next door.

"You decided what you want yet?" the man asked, drawing in a chair on wheels and settling on it to look at Arthur.

"One of these would be nice," the mage said, pointing at a little black ring which shone obsidian behind its glass confines.

The owner nodded and stood back up to prepare his tools.

"You sure your mom will agree?"

Arthur tsk-ed and scowled. "Just how old do you think I am?!"

The other snickered. "Just teasing kid. No need to get your panties in a twist."

Arthur sighed and looked up at the ceiling. For some reason, he wished he wouldn't have to do it alone. But that was stupid, since there was absolutely no one he could ask to come with him. His brothers would kill him if they knew, Alfred was a big baby when it came to needles (which was rather ironic since he loved blood), Lukas had already made it perfectly clear he didn't agree, Kiku was busy having a sleepover with Ludwig and Feliciano, and there was one other guy he should remember, really it was on the tip of his tongue, but somehow he couldn't. Francis was out of the question, since the incubus was practically the main reason he was in this joint right now. And he wouldn't want to bother Gilbert in his current state.

Arthur smiled. The werewolf would have loved being here with him. Arthur knew that if he had the money, Gilbert would have gotten his entire body pierced and tattooed a long time ago. An excited feeling squirmed around in his stomach at the thought of showing the albino his new earring, but he quickly suppressed it. This Brit wasn't the type to get excited over such trivial matters as getting his ears pierced, _please_. Only people like Alfred would freak out over it. Alfred and Gilbert…

Why did he not mind thinking about Gilbert going crazy over his new ear accessory? He already knew that if Alfred would say even one word about, he was probably just going to get pissed (then again, Alfred always went over the top with his reactions). With Gilbert it felt different though. More… natural?

And what would Francis have to say about it… Shit, he was thinking about him again! Arthur quickly forced his mind back to Gilbert.

The albino really was strange. The same amount of energy as their American friend, but still different. Maybe because he had so many younger siblings to take care of? Maybe because he at least had _some_ discipline? Or maybe he was less awkward when it came to talking about thoughts and feelings? (Not that they talked about that a lot, they were still _guys_ after all.)

What was it?

Arthur hissed when he felt a sting in his left ear. He'd been so focussed on his thoughts regarding the Prussian werewolf, that he'd completely forgotten the procedure he was about to undergo. Now, as his mind drifted back to the present, he found it to be already over and done with.

"There you go kid. Need a popsicle to ease the pain?"

Arthur rolled his eyes and waited for the man to finish up.

"No thank you. I think you'd better give that to the bloke in the other room."

Right on cue, they could hear another whimper. The owner sighed, exasperated.

"Yeah, that one's a real pain in the ass. All I did was draw a unicorn on his butt, and he nearly fainted the moment my needle went down. I hadn't even touched him yet!"

Arthur couldn't help but laugh at the other's expense. Some people really were masochists.

xoxox

" _Arthur Ignatius Kirkland_! What the bloody hell is that forsaken thing!"

The green-eyed mage flinched with his foot on the bottom step of the stairs. He slowly turned around, mentally preparing himself for what was to come. His father almost never used his full name, so this had to be extraordinarily bad.

"You mean this?" he asked in a casual tone, touching the little ring with the tip of his finger.

Henry's eyebrows were so rigid they could have torn apart the rest of his face. His nostrils flared as he took a huge gulp of breath, trying to steady himself before his next outburst.

"Yes, that. This'd better be a fake, or you're in big trouble young man."

Arthur shrugged nonchalantly, completely calm under his father's building rage. He had no idea why he was really doing this. Yes, he had his reasons to piss off his father. A distraction from those treacherous thoughts about Francis, revenge for Henry always expecting too much from him even when he had four other sons, for always nagging about his future and hobbies and everything, really.

He could have easily avoided a fight like this. His magic was powerful enough to hide the earring in plain sight. But maybe it was just the adolescent in him that wanted, needed to be rebellious? That couldn't just sit down and try to talk it out with Henry, but immediately raised his weapons and charged in for the kill. Not that Arthur himself would ever admit he was just being stubborn, of course.

Henry pinched the bridge of his nose and growled in frustration.

"What is it with you nowadays? First the guitar, now this… I thought I always made it perfectly clear that no son of my will ever get a piercing!"

Arthur flashed a lop-sided smirk.

"Technically it's just an earring."

"And that! All the back-talking! This is my house, and I want to be respected here! You are getting rid of that thing right now Arthur, or I'm kicking you out!"

"You wouldn't," Arthur whispered in a defiant voice.

"What was that?"

"You wouldn't!" the boy shouted this time. His father stopped in his pacing, mouth falling open in shocked surprise at the sudden anger in his child's voice.

"You would never kick me out Henry, because _what would the neighbours think_? You have an image to keep up, right? We are a respected family, and no son of you will ever do something as unrespectable as having dreams or not looking like he's stuck in the Victorian Age or love-"

Arthur quickly snapped his mouth shut, not really wanting to spill that little secret right now. His father already looked like he was about to explode, and he didn't want to drop the bomb of his being gay just to make him angrier. He at least had that much common sense, thank you.

In a swift and fluid movement, Henry whipped out his wand and pointed it right at his youngest. Arthur's breath caught in his throat and his heart skipped a bit, even though in his mind he knew Henry would never curse him. The man was many things, but violent was not one of them.

The older mage closed his eyes and took a few breaths to steady himself, before slowly lowering the wand. When he spoke again, his voice sounded a lot calmer. Instead of one hundred percent angry, a bit of hidden desperation seemed to have slipped in, desperation Arthur did not want to become aware of.

"Arthur, it's not because you're eighteen that you no longer have to listen to me. You might be an adult by law, but you're acting far from mature. I have no idea where all this came from, but I cannot agree with your decisions. As long as you're living under my roof, you are to listen to what I tell you. I only want what's best for this family, and I can only say that what you're doing is not going to help you in your further life. Now, you are to go to your room. I don't want to see you for a little while."

Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but Henry raised his hand to cut him off.

" _Now_ , Arthur. Don't make me repeat myself. And we _are_ getting rid of _that thing_ later."

The young mage gritted his teeth. "Fine!" he spat, after which he thundered up the stairs.

Behind him, Henry sighed and massaged his temples. His youngest son had always been such a good and polite kid, where had it all gone wrong?

Arthur was almost at his room when he heard someone call his name. He immediately jerked to a halt. This voice had far more effect on him than any other in the household. The teen turned around and looked up a second set of stairs, seeing his grandmother standing at the top of it. She elegantly raised her hand and beckoned for him to come to her, after which Anglia disappeared into her own room. Arthur hesitantly climbed the steps, feeling like a lamb being brought to the slaughter. Infuriating his father was one thing, but upsetting the Britannia Angel was a whole different story. Because on top of his grandmother, she was also his most respected teacher. It was because of her that he'd been able to develop his powers at such a young age, because of that mysterious woman with her never-changing expression and wings like that of a giant swan.

Arthur paused in the doorway. It had been quite a long time since he'd last set foot in this room. As a child he used to be here all the time, reading thick books filled with difficult spells and watching his grandmother do embroidery (a hobby he'd secretly taken a liking to himself). Now, he could see everything was just the same as last time he visited. Still the same canopy bed, the same mahogany closet, the same bookcases and curtains and tapestry and desk. He blushed when he saw a little drawing on one of the walls, imagining himself once more as a child experimenting with crayons. It sent an odd heat through him that she'd kept it there all those years, that little silly picture of a young boy with his winged grandmother.

"You wanted to speak to me Nana?"

The woman sat down in a chair by the window, and gestured for him to do the same. Arthur awkwardly walked over and sat down beside her, not really feeling at ease right after the fight with his father. He slightly jumped when he felt a hand on the left side of his head, but held still when he realized Anglia was observing the little obsidian ring. He suddenly felt bad about the rash decision to get his ear pierced. It probably looked ridiculous on him.

Anglia leant back, face never betraying any emotion. "Forgive my son. He is only worried for your future."

Arthur blinked, but didn't speak up. He was quite used to Anglia talking about Henry that way, as she did it about anyone. It wasn't because Henry was her only child that he needed a softer treatment. The same counted for her grandchildren. This might have seemed harsh to outsiders, but Arthur respected that no-nonsense attitude.

"You must have given him quite a fright. Knowing my Henry, he's hyperventilating in his room right now. I hope Jane is there to help him. She's really a lovely girl."

Arthur nodded. Anglia had always been fond of her daughter-in-law. (Just the same way she was fond of Arthur, but never told him this was the case.)

"I must say it looks quite good on you. I only wish you had informed me beforehand."

At this the green-eyed mage looked up, surprise evident in his features.

"You mean you would've let me get it?"

Anglia nodded, staring off into the distance.

"Of course. You are still young, you are allowed to experiment and discover. Henry often forgets that he too was quite rebellious when he was your age."

Arthur snorted. "My father, rebellious? Please, Nana. You have got to be joking."

The tiniest of smiles graced her face.

"Oh, but he was. Just like you want to be a musician, he wanted to become a writer. I didn't agree, of course. Thought he'd never be able to make a living out of it. He was always so stubborn, but so was I. Then one day he met Jane, and all his rebellion flew right out the window. He no longer talked about writing, no, all he could speak of was that enchanting nymph that had caught his eye. I was very pleased, of course. Jane has always been a lovely thing, and she did wonders on his temper."

Anglia chuckled softly, closing her eyes. Arthur stared at her as the light of the miniature sun illuminating the room caressed her face, set it alight and showed off the angel she really was. Once more he wished they could spend more time during the day, as his grandmother looked truly beautiful like this. It often made him wonder how such a gorgeous woman could have gotten such odd looking grandchildren (he'd never quite gotten over the other's teasing him for his caterpillars for eyebrows, as they all called them).

"It's funny that he turned out to be a writer after all. Of course, his work at the university helps a great deal, but it's ironic. History really does repeat itself. A man, fighting with his parent over a dream, which later turns out to be an exciting reality. A writer, and now a musician."

Anglia re-opened her eyes and once more flashed him one of her rare smiles.

"Maybe your temper will ease after finding a partner as well?"

Partner. Arthur couldn't help but think about the incubus at that word, saddening his mood and eating at his calm expression. He failed to notice how Anglia had said partner, instead of girl.

The mage started when his grandmother placed a hand under his chin and tilted his head up. Her gaze was knowing, searching.

"There is something you're not telling me, Ari." (Only she could call him that and get away with it, as she scarcely showed affection towards anyone in present times.)

Arthur's eyes shot guiltily to the side, but he relaxed as she lightly stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"It's all right if you don't want to tell me. We are all allowed to have secrets." She then removed her hand, as if having reached the bottom of her box with sentiment for the day. "I know things will work out for you. They did for Henry, after all. And no, I'm not saying you and Henry are exactly the same-" (She really knew him too well.) "-but I have faith in you. Sleep well, Arthur."

The young mage gave her a quick peck on the cheek (which was received with an absent-minded hum) and left for his own room, knowing he wasn't going to fall asleep for a long time with the thoughts buzzing through his mind.

xoxox

1) Luther is Holy Rome, and the others are German states (see the list of minor characters in the Hetalia Wiki for more info). Theodo is Bavaria, Hartwin is Brandeburg, Christoph is Hesse, Gisil is Saxony, and Ida is Holstein. They don't have a big role in the story, it's more to illustrate that Gilbert lives in a rather large pack.

Words:

Du bist wirklich der fantastischste Freund: You are truly the most amazing friend


	6. Chapter 6: Lime

Chapter 6: Lime

 **Warning: Francis is going to do some stuff that might seem wrong, but I explain in the end-note what it really is, so don't be alarmed.**

xoxox

"Arthur, mon lapin!"

Arthur couldn't keep his heart from skipping a beat when hearing that flamboyant man call his name. It sunk immediately afterwards though, as the incubus had a girl with him.

"My, my! Looking handsome today! And nice earring! Pas mal."

The mage awkwardly fidgeted with his tie. He'd put on a classy tuxedo for the prom, something that accentuated his muscles and made him look more masculine (and no, he hadn't just done that to impress the Frenchman).

The girl on his arm pouted at hearing Francis talk to Arthur like that.

"What about me, Frenchie? Aren't I pretty?"

"Of course you are, ma belle fleur," Francis crooned at her, and Arthur had to suppress the impulse to vomit.

He was about to walk away when Kiku showed up next to him. The kitsune had pulled out a traditional kimono for the occasion, but he didn't look all that happy for some reason. His ears and tail were tense, a permanent frown plastered on his usually stoic features.

"Evening, Kiku. Anything wrong?"

"Konbanwa, Arthur-san, Francis-san. And well-"

"It's my brother's fault," Matthew said, the boy suddenly appearing in their midst.

"What has he done this time?" Arthur sighed, rubbing his temples.

Matthew smiled wryly. "Look for yourself."

"HEY! I said don't touch me!"

All of them looked up at the sound of that voice, and most were shocked to see Alfred walking up to them, casual tux with flashy bowtie on his body, and a demon walking next to it.

"He's taking Braginsky to the prom?!" Arthur hissed, not knowing whether he should question the vampire's sanity or save him from an obviously unwanted arrangement.

Matthew shrugged, and Francis laughed that typical laugh of his.

"I knew there was a reason he never takes notice of my advantages! He just likes his men a lot more Russian!"

"Or he's just oblivious to your flirting," Arthur muttered, while Matthew began blushing fiercely and Kiku narrowed his eyes.

"I-I don't think they're dating!" Matthew interrupted, voice high-pitched. "I mean, sure, they spend a lot more time together, but Al would've told me if-"

He quickly snapped his mouth shut when the duo reached their little group. Everyone leant back a little as a gush of cold washed over them, and they wondered how it was that Alfred seemed totally fine with the low temperatures. They all stayed quiet, eyeing the demon with distrust (well, with Kiku it was more pure hatred and Francis' girlfriend just looked utterly terrified). Ivan waved.

"Hey you guys! You ready to go to the prom?" Alfred asked excitedly, unaware of their reactions to his 'date'.

"Is he coming with us?" Arthur asked, frank as ever. Ivan grinned at him, teasingly freezing the tips of his hair.

"Huh? Oh, him. ….Yeah, he is."

"Good luck on your date, then."

"We're just going as friends…" Alfred said, but for some reason Arthur didn't entirely believe him.

He worried for his the American, even though he didn't always show it.

' _Just what are you getting yourself into Alfred…'_ he mentally sighed, watching the vampire and the demon disappear inside.

xoxox

Arthur impatiently tapped his booted foot on the tiled floor. He had snuck backstage with Emma and Antonio to get ready for their performance tonight, but they were still one band member short.

' _Dammit!'_ he thought. _'Gilbert had better be here before we start! He promised!'_

Before he could get too agitated though, a sudden wolf whistle made him snap his head back. There was the albino, dressed in a loose ripped jeans and bleached t-shirt, ears twitching with every little sound that caught his attention and grin as big as ever. Arthur sighed, feeling beyond relieved.

"I thought you weren't going to make it. You know, with your… situation."

Gilbert shrugged. "Nah, that's cool. I just destroyed my sense of smell a whole basket full of garlic, so I probably won't be distracted by any delicious scents the next few hours."

He sniffed Arthur's hair to demonstrate, and the mage could feel a shiver travel up his spine when the other's hot breath touched his ear as he chuckled. Yes, he was obviously very nervous for the upcoming performance.

"See? I can manage! By the way, nice jewel you got there Artie! When'd you get that?"

Arthur proudly touched the little obsidian ring, glad at least someone noticed – Francis of course didn't count, as he was trying to ignore the incubus with all his might (and failing pathetically at it).

"Got it yesterday. Thought I'd need a bit of cleaning up if I ever wanted to look like a real musician."

"Awesome, dude! Fits you perfectly!"

Arthur smiled. This is exactly why he liked Gilbert. Others would have immediately been worried, knowing how his father thought about the matter. But not Gilbert. As long as Arthur was sure he wanted an earring, Gilbert would support him in that matter.

The blond frowned lightly as he thought back about breakfast. Apparently, since Arthur wasn't planning on removing the jewel, his father had decided to ignore him from now on. His mother had liked it a lot, but she had been the only one. His brothers had only given him a disapproving glance, knowing it would make Henry angry, and nobody could tell what the Britannia Angel was thinking. Arthur had left the house with a heavy mind, knowing he had the right to decide what to do with his own body, but wanting their blessing nonetheless. Luckily, he at least had Gilbert to fall back on.

"Hey, what's eating you?"

Arthur shook his head. Now was not the time to be worried about that, he had to focus on his guitar!

"Never mind, you dog. We have a school to entertain!"

"And entertain we shall!" the werewolf cackled raising his hand.

"To The Outcasts!" Antonio joined in, combining their hands.

"To victory!" Emma shouted, being loudest of them all.

"And to not wetting my trousers," Arthur finished, grinning widely.

"Hello fellow students of Crack High! Are you all sick of this boring music too?" an obnoxiously loud voice with distinct German accent roared. "Have no fear, because The Outcasts are here for your entertainment!"

And with that the werewolf took his place behind his drums, the other three members of the band getting on stage as well. A few students applauded, the others just waiting curiously to see what they had in store. Alfred used the silence to quickly distance himself from the Russian, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible.

"Ready? Eins, Zwei, Drei, Vier!"

The moment the first note filled the air, Alfred knew they were good. No, not good. _Awesome_.

Gilbert quickly set up a fast and tricky beat, immediately followed by the clever guitar work of Antonio and Arthur. The music was energetic, but not upbeat. There was a hidden tone, something sending a chill down your spine. The music was almost literally alive.

Emma walked to the front, legs held by ragged stockings and both her lipstick and nail polish a pitch black colour. She brought the microphone to her mouth and began to sing.

 _Come to the forest, come to the forest, come to the forest with me tonight  
Follow the sounds, follow the light of the full moon shining oh so bright  
And hidden there you will find…  
A wolf, snow white wolf, creature of the night!_

Gilbert gave a loud howl, drawing some cheers and whistles from the crowd. By now, everyone was dancing again, stomping on the ground and letting their bodies swing to and fro, fro and to. The music was magical, dug up your primal instincts, set your feet ablaze.

"Way to go Iggy!" Arthur heard Alfred call, and he made sure to show the vampire his middle finger.

The rest of the night went by in a blur after that, the band playing song after song as soon as their fellow student took a liking to the music.

And for once, Arthur had a genuine happy smile on his face.

xoxox

"When are you getting rid of it?"

"I'm not, so stop nagging to me about it!"

Arthur defiantly crossed his arms and glared at his brothers. They had all come home for the holidays, but almost none of them were in the right mood. Not with Henry still being mad at their youngest', souring the atmosphere of the entire house.

They were currently sitting in Patrick and Finn's bedroom, four men squeezed together on the bed and Arthur standing grumpily at the other side of the room. Arthur had known none of them would approve of his earring, but that didn't mean he was going to do away with it either. Only his mother had given him her consent, but with Henry being so openly against it, her opinion was drowned out. Anglia had yet to speak her mind.

"You really do want him to scratch you from his will, don't you?" Dylan said, wiggling to try and get some personal space back when Finn was squashed against his hip. The only one who gave the impression of having enough space was Allistor, but maybe he just always seemed that intimidatingly at ease.

"That has nothing to do with it. I don't care what he has to say about it. It's not coming off."

"You do remember that we're mages, right?" Patrick remarked, snapping his fingers back. "You might score high at school, but that doesn't make you invincible, boyo. We could just get it off ourselves."

"You wouldn't dare," Arthur said, giving his brother such a venomous leer it almost made his green orbs come to life and slit the other's throat.

Allistor spoke up, and immediately the others grew quiet. Being the oldest, he'd never had to ask for respect from them.

"Do as you wish. It's your own damn life, who are we to try and talk some sense into you? But Arthur, if this is just you acting up for the sake of acting up, know that I won't be there to support you if things go wrong."

That was a very heavy statement. Arthur couldn't always get along with his brothers, but to hear Allistor say this… It made his self-confidence falter a whole lot.

"It's more than that," he spoke, words tumbling over each other in their rush to be heard. "I don't just want to get on his nerves, of course I don't."

"Then what is it?" Finn asked, eyes big and questioning.

Arthur frowned, crawling back in his shell again.

"I have no obligation to tell you."

Patrick carelessly stood up, walked over, and took his head in a vice-like grip.

"What are you doing, you bloody wanker?!"

As Arthur struggled to break free, the others got up as well and surrounded him. Allistor walked forward and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder, instantly silencing the young mage.

"You may be the youngest, but you're an adult now. If any of us wants to punch you in the face, they can go right ahead. No consequences. But we won't do that. Want to know why? Because we're brothers. So unless you want me to go tell Nana you're dating a hooker, you better come out and confess."

"I wouldn't be dating a hooker, you imbecile!"

"A stripper then?" Patrick teased, poking him in the ribs.

"No, none of those!"

"And why not? Got somebody else on your mind?" Dylan inquired.

"Because I'm g-"

Arthur could barely stop himself from spilling that one word, biting his tongue in the process. But it was already too late. That one letter had given him away.

And now, every single one of his brothers looked absolutely murderous.

"Who is it? That wolf kid? I'll kill him!" Patrick hissed, looking ready to put his words into action.

"No, you leave him out! Gilbert has nothing to do with this!"

Allistor grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and pulled him up to eye level.

"Since when?"

Arthur blinked sheepishly. While Finn, Patrick and Dylan were making so much noise it almost burst his eardrums, Allistor seemed frighteningly calm.

"Uh… Since when what?"

"Since when did you know? How long have you been like this?"

Arthur gulped.

"Since birth, I guess?" he said, voice small and hesitant.

Allistor's eyes flew over his face, as if looking for something.

"You are serious, aren't you? You're not just saying this because it's another way of getting back at pa?"

"No! I'm one hundred percent serious here!"

Allistor released him, and Arthur could barely catch himself before falling to the ground.

"You three, shut up."

The brothers all grew silent once more as Allistor walked up and down the room, like an angry match stick with his bright red hair.

"All right then… I need some time to think about this. But whatever you do, don't tell Henry."

"Um, do you think I've gone bonkers?" Arthur remarked dryly.

Allistor sent him a glare, before leaving the room. Arthur was secretly relieved. Allistor may not be supportive of his sexual orientation, but at least he wasn't being yelled at.

Patrick slapped him harshly on the back.

"All right, boyo, time to get you out of my room! Don't want you getting any gay germs all over my stuff."

Arthur flared indignantly, but the other smirked. As he pushed him out onto the hallway, he bent over to whisper in the blond's ear.

"Allistor will come around, don't you worry. So will the others."

Arthur glanced over the other's shoulder, seeing Finn staring stubbornly in the opposite direction and Dylan looking at him with a gaze full of questions.

"Wait- You mean you're fine with it?"

Patrick shrugged.

"It's not really a surprise. At least now I know I haven't been calling you a fag for nothing!"

Arthur punched him on his right arm, making Patrick laugh.

"No, but seriously. He just needs some getting used to the idea. …And you're sure it's not the wolf, right?"

"Yes I am," Arthur sighed. Patrick's hatred for Gilbert was actually quite amusing.

His brother nodded.

"All right then. I'll talk to Finn and Dylan about it, and you make sure to keep your mouth shut to anyone else. Especially Nana. Have no idea how she'll react to it. And nice earring, fag."

The door was slammed in his face before Arthur could retort. He stood there for a small while, finally letting it sink in.

His brothers knew his secret. And not one of them had wanted to kill him for it. Well, Allistor was unsure, and Finn hadn't looked that approving, but still. It was more than he could have ever wished for.

So as Arthur returned to his bedroom, he couldn't swipe the grin off of his face. Strengthened by that feeling that he could take on the world, he sat down and wrote three new songs for The Outcasts. Then he sent Gilbert, Kiku, Lukas and Alfred a text message, and after a long debate he sent one to Francis as well, wishing them all a Merry Christmas.

True, his love might never be returned, but that couldn't get him down today. Nor the fact that Henry was still ignoring him.

Nope. Not today.

xoxox

"Arthur, mon lapin!" cooed a voice.

Arthur groaned. He truly wasn't in the mood to see Francis today. Not only because it was winter break, his supposed time away from the Frenchman, but also because he'd been thinking about the other _a lot_ the past few days and didn't want him to find out.

"You are coming to my New Year's party, right?" Francis purred, leaning heavily on his shoulder.

Arthur gave a non-committing grunt. Too be honest, he'd forgotten all about that party, even though it had become an annual occasion over the years.

Francis bent over and breathed hotly into his ear.

"I will have a little surprise~"

It was only then that Arthur pushed him away, cheeks flaming and scowl deepening.

"Yes, I will be there, happy?! Now, leave me alone!"

Francis smiled and waved.

"Suit yourself, mon cher. But the surprise will be there."

xoxox

Arthur didn't understand. Why wouldn't Kiku let him take of those damnable clothes? Couldn't the Japanese feel the heat as well? Perhaps not. It was inside his body, after all. Running through his veins, setting his blood on fire. His skin felt tingly, and the music pounded in his ears.

He was at Francis' party. He had been talking a bit with Kiku, and then was offered some liquor… And now he was feeling like this. Or, not entirely because of the liquor. He'd felt a little hot and bothered even before that. But the wine had only strengthened the sensations.

"Ah, Francis-san! I think Arthur-san has had a bit too much to drink."

"Do not worry. I will take care of him."

Someone grabbed him gently by the wrist and pulled him off the table. Arthur stumbled against his chest, and two hands found their way to the teen's butt.

"F-Francis?" he managed to utter, frowning.

The incubus chuckled, and Arthur was hit by the bewitching scent of roses and grapes.

"What are you doing?" he grumbled, holding back a gasp when Francis began massaging his butt cheeks. For some reason he felt warm and fuzzy all over, just because of those small movements.

"It seems you have had a lot of wine, mh? How did it taste?"

It was hard to focus when the sex demon breathed hot air into his ear.

"W-what did you put in it?" Arthur growled, hissing when the other let the tip of his tongue flick against an earlobe.

"Not much. But it is a party, right? So I should be allowed to have a little fun. Besides, you would not be affected if you hadn't been feeling a little… excited. It does not work on the pure souls~"

He then looked at Arthur, azure eyes so divine and face so close Arthur could feel the electricity sparking between their skins.

"Arthur, mon lapin. Will you do me the favour? A gift for the new year? I promise you nothing but the highest pleasure. You certainly will not regret it."

And when Arthur felt a hand cup his crotch, all logic left him. He could only feel the heat, the burning desire of several years culminating into a longing that could no longer be ignored. He needed Francis, wanted him so much, wanted to hold him close and never let go. Craved for gentleness and care combined with passion, yearned for those eyes to look at him, only him. It couldn't be any other way.

"Yes…" he whispered, voice shaky with need.

Francis smirked pleasantly, guiding a hand to the small of his back.

"Come."

xoxox

 _Two bodies stumbled up the stairs, pausing every other step to give each other a sloppy kiss._

 _They entered the bedroom, fingers tearing at clothes and breaths intermingling as they crushed their mouths together, impatient for what was to come._

 _They lay on the bed, grinding against each other like horny dogs. Desperate for friction, anything to relieve the burning tension._

 _Arthur moaned when the other sucked on his neck, teeth grazing his collarbone. A finger was drawing lazy circles around his navel, and he whined. He wanted more, more touches, more sensations, more Francis._

 _His kisses were heavenly. Too good to be true. Too much, too much…_

 _He was so desperate he asked to be taken dry, but Francis would have none of that. The demon prepared him with care, and it was everything he'd ever hoped for and more._

 _Finally he entered him, finally they could be one. Slow and steady at first, the demon continuing to ask if he was okay. After a few rushed reassurances and pleas, the other finally picked up the pace, giving in to the moment._

 _No coherent sounds left his mouth as his hands roamed the other's body. He was burning up, every touch too much to handle._

 _The movements became faster, more passionate, rougher, more, more, more…_

 _The tension was building, reaching an almost unbearable level. Any moment now…_

 _With a cry he peaked, seeing white as his body snapped taut._

 _The two fell back upon the mattress, panting and satiated._

 _Arthur opened his eyes and froze. What had he done?_

xoxox

 **Francis is not a rapist. The drug (or whatever you wanna call it) he used intensifies sexual desire, but it doesn't take away free will. The victim can still choose if he/she wants to act on that desire or not, and Francis would have been totally fine if Arthur had refused him. Incubi get a boost from sex, but the lust Arthur transmitted would've been enough to satisfy him. Only if the victim truly wants to have sex will the drug make them that horny. Hence it working so well on Arthur, since he's been fantasizing about Francis for a very long time now. So again, if the victim doesn't want anything to happen, nothing will happen.**

 **This little rant because I hate people who portray France as a rapist. If anything, he's like the flirty big brother of the bunch. He thinks a bit too much about sex perhaps, but he's said himself that love isn't love if it's forced upon another. His character doesn't deserve the label 'rapist'.**

 **Same-sex marriage is legalized in the United Kingdom, except in Northern Ireland, hence Finn not being okay with it. More and more people are in favour of gay marriage in the Republic of Ireland, so that's why Patrick's fine with it. Allistor is just concerned, being the oldest brother and all. And Scotland was a bit later than England and Wales with introducing the first same-sex marriage ceremony.**

Words:

Pas mal: Not bad  
Ma belle fleur: My beautiful flower  
Konbanwa: Good evening  
Eins, Zwei, Drei, Vier: One, two, three, four


	7. Chapter 7: Jade

Chapter 7: Jade

"Have you ever loved someone?"

Francis looked back at him, cocking an eyebrow. He was putting on his trousers, for it was time to go tell his guests to leave. The sun was almost rising, and not all creatures could stand it.

Arthur was still lying in the bed, blankets curled around him to hide his shame now that he had sobered up. His body hurt and felt too sensitive, as the incubus had been unable to let him off the hook before at least getting three rounds in. Sex demons were rather excitable creatures when it came to their favourite activity, and for the 'victim' it wasn't entirely unpleasant either. But now that he had fully recovered from the effects of whatever enhancing drug Francis had given him (beside the drug of love, that is), he felt like a whore. Ashamed, used, weak. Francis had finally added another trophy to his list, and Arthur was going to be left behind to pick up the pieces.

Yet, the tiny bit of hope he had left within him urged him to ask the question. Francis had been gentle after all. If there was any chance at all, even if it was just a tiny little almost non-existent thing, that Francis could be able to love him back, he was willing to go for it. Anything to get rid of that feeling of just selling his body for pleasure, shattering his pride and all those feelings of unrequited love in the process.

"Have I ever loved someone? But Arthur, mon ami, I spread love every day!"

"Not like that, you sodding twat," Arthur snapped, even more curtly than usual. "I mean have you ever been in love?"

Francis let out a breathless laugh at that.

"L'amour est une chose précieuse, n'est-ce pas?" he whispered. "That is why I try to spread it as much as I can. True, what you and I consider love may differ. But whenever I make love to someone, I think about their needs first. Their pleasure, their wishes and desires. I will get what I need eventually, so that is why I have taken the task upon me to make my partner as comfortable as possible."

Arthur buried his face in the blankets, blushing fiercely. So that was why Francis had been so gentle with him. Not because he cared about him specifically. Not because he was special. He- he wasn't…

"And yet…"

Arthur flinched and looked up. The Frenchman was staring out the window, smiling melancholically.

"And yet if you ask that question, I must confess. There is someone who… who holds a special place in my heart. Someone whom I have not conquered, who I wouldn't even dream of touching."

Arthur felt the blood leave his face as he listened intently to this confession.

"Love is a strange thing. I am an incubus, a creature of the night, a demon solely feeding off of lust and pleasure. And yet… Whenever I think of her, there is something else. She… I have only really met her once. Never again after that. And yet, for some reason, that girl never leaves my mind."

He sighed.

"Her name was Lisa. There was just something about the way she moved, how she smiled, the sound of her voice. I was captivated. Wanted to know more about her. But it was never supposed to be. I am still an incubus. She was just a human, and she has most likely forgotten all about me. I have never seen her again after that day, but every detail of her is imprinted in my memory."

"So you love her?" Arthur whispered, afraid his voice would crack if he were to speak up.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. But that feeling, that is the closest to love I have ever felt. Of course, I do not care for her like I do for my friends, since she is a stranger, but I can't help but wonder what our lives would have looked like had I been a human. Perhaps we would have started dating. Gotten married. Even had children together. A little girl whom I would want to name Jeanne. If I were human, I would have called my daughter that. Oui, whenever I muse about that alternate life, I cannot help but feel happy. So she must mean something to me."

' _And what about me?'_ was the silent question he didn't dare to utter, knowing Francis didn't love him. Never had, never would. He'd known that all along, but to have it rubbed in his face like this…

It hurt more than he ever could've imagined.

"I almost felt like following her home that day. Make her mine, woo her like a normal lover would. But we incubi are not the most monogamous creatures, and it pains me to think that I could have hurt her by not staying truthful. I do not know her, that girl. Lisa. But I wish I did. I wish…"

Francis suddenly stopped, staring at Arthur. The mage gulped when the other crossed the room, crouching down right beside him.

"Arthur, mon ami. Is something the matter? You look like you're in pain. I did not hurt you, did I?"

Arthur choked back the sob and forced a shaky smile onto his face.

"No, not at all! It's just, I never would've imagined you getting all sentimental like that, you frog."

Francis didn't retaliate, still studying his forced features.

"Do you regret last night?" he asked, worry written all over him. Then, he pulled the other into a hug, stroking his hair.

But Arthur didn't want him to worry. He didn't want pity. He didn't want to be hugged like a friend, didn't want to be comforted by the only one who could break him into a thousand pieces just by talking about some girl. Not just because he was jealous, but because he'd never seen Francis look so happy as when he talked about her. Arthur knew he could never compete with that.

This is exactly why he hadn't wanted to become too involved with the demon in the first place. It was destined to lead to heartbreak.

"Mon ange, mon lapin. Dites ton grand frère, where it hurts."

' _Stop it. Don't talk to me like that. Don't say things you don't mean. Don't be so nice. Please, let me hate you. I beg of you.'_

Arthur laughed, the voice sounding strange to his own ears.

He refused to cry.

"No, no! It's really nothing! You were right, it was a great night. But let's not do it again. Don't want to have more awkward conversations the morning after about your would-have-been girlfriend. It's too unlike you, damn wanker."

Francis released him from the hug, studied him for a few more seconds, and then sighed.

"If you say so, mon petit Anglais. I am going downstairs now, okay? You can stay here for as long as you like. Please, be my guest. And if you want to talk, just call me. You are one of my dearest friends, despite all those insults you have invented just for me."

And with that the incubus kissed him on the forehead and left the room.

Arthur broke down as soon as the door clicked shut.

xoxox

"Hey Spatz, there you are!"

Arthur looked up. He sat curled up in a corner of the room, clothes back on to hide his shame. He wanted to run away as fast as his legs could carry him, but couldn't find it in him to leave the room either.

And now Gilbert was staring at him, mouth slightly agape and ears dropping to the sides of his head.

"Artie? Is everything all right?"

Arthur lifted his face and was about to tell the other all was well, nothing to worry about. But he couldn't. There was something stuck down his throat, something preventing him from speaking. All that left him was a strangled little sob.

With a few strides the wolf was next to him, crouching down and pulling him into his arms. Arthur clung to his friend as the tears finally started falling, streaming, and he hiccupped when the cries twisted their way out of his mouth.

Gilbert soothingly rubbed his back, rocking him tenderly.

"It's all right, Engel. I've got you. Just let it out, whatever this is."

And all Arthur could do was hold him and be held in return, crying for the love that would never be.

xoxox

"It's okay. Just breathe in… Ja, like that, and now out again. Okay."

Arthur shuddered as he let out a shaky breath, eyes squeezed shut. Gilbert gently rubbed his back, worry written all over his features. The sun was already up, and the wolf had taken on his human form again. Just what Arthur needed.

"You know emotional breakdowns are not very awesome, right?" Gilbert joked, grinning crookedly.

The mage would have laughed had he not been so sad.

"It was Francis, wasn't it?"

Arthur flinched, looking up at him with big teary eyes. Gilbert wiped a thumb over his cheeks, getting rid of the treacherous wetness.

"Don't look so surprised. I'm a werewolf, remember? You got his smell all over you."

Arthur's face heated up and he ducked his head in embarrassment. Gilbert caught his chin and forced his gaze back up, studying him with a stern expression.

"He didn't hurt you, did he? If he did, you have to know he didn't mean it. That Arshloch is an awesome guy, but he can be rather insensitive because of his incubus nature."

Arthur pried himself loose, new tears welling up.

"No, he didn't hurt me…"

"Did he force you then? Should I go beat some sense into him?"

"No…"

Gilbert grabbed his shoulders, trying to look him in the eye.

"Then what? Do you regret it? Are you ashamed? Did he hurt your pride or something? What's wrong, Artie?"

"…ve him…"

Gilbert came closer, tightening the grip on his shoulders.

"What was that, Spatz? Could you repeat that for a second?"

"I love him, okay?!" Arthur suddenly snapped, jerking his head back to look at the other with a piercing gaze. "I love that bleedin' bastard, and I hate it! What's the point in loving an incubus?! Especially now that he… He'll never… I, we…"

The werewolf let out a soft noise of understanding before pulling him into the tightest embrace he'd ever taken part of. Arthur clung to him, desperately, pathetically. The other's shirt was already soaked, and was about to be hit by a new load of tears.

"Unmögliche Liebe… Ich weiß alles über sie."

"W-what was that?"

"Nothing, Engel. Just let it out. I'm here for you."

They remained in that position for quite a while, until the Prussian spoke again and broke the sorrowful silence.

"I told him he should always ask for consent. _Really_ ask for it, not wait until his partner can't refuse. But the idiot just keeps on seducing people like there's no tomorrow. I knew he was going to hurt someone sooner or later."

Arthur shrugged weakly, dragging a hand under his nose.

"It's over and done with. Nothing I can do about it now. Nothing you can do either. Please don't tell him you know."

Gilbert ruffled his hair and gave a short flick against his earring.

"I wish I could tell you to just forget about him and move on, but I know better than anyone else that that isn't exactly an easy thing to do."

"Gilbert…?" Arthur asked, frowning at the implication behind his words.

The albino shook his head placed a quick peck on top of Arthur's messy coup.

"I will tell you some other time, okay Spatz? Just know you're an awesome guy, and I don't want to see you in pain just because Francy-pants wasn't thinking things through."

Gilbert got up and extended his hand.

"Come. I'll bring you home. You look like you could need a rest."

And when the red-eyed teen looked down at him, expression pleasant and rays of golden sun dancing through his colourless hair, a pang of something shot through the mage's heart. He took his hand and let himself be pulled up. Before they left the room, he gave the wolf a quick kiss on the cheek as well, averting his eyes when the other shot him a surprised smile.

"Thank you, Gilbert."

The smile turned into a brilliant grin, warmer than the alcohol he'd drunk earlier that night.

"You're very welcome, Artie."

xoxox

Words:

L'amour est une chose précieuse, n'est-ce pas ?: Love is a precious thing, isn't it?  
Mon ange: My angel  
Mon lapin: My bunny  
Dites ton grand frère: Tell your big brother  
Mon petit Anglais: My little Englishman  
Unmögliche Liebe: Impossible love  
Ich weiß alles über sie: I know all about it


	8. Chapter 8: Chartreuse

Chapter 8: Chartreuse

Lately, Arthur hadn't exactly been experiencing the best of times. Two of his brothers were having difficulty getting used to the idea with his sexuality (but Patrick teasingly declared he'd always suspected him swinging that way, and Dylan was just curious). Lord Henry was still stubbornly giving him the silent treatment. He hadn't had the chance to talk to his grandmother lately. He was still very concerned about Alfred's relationship with the icy demon (and apparently Kiku shared that concern, but he was even more stressed about it). And to top it off, Francis just wouldn't leave him alone after that night, worrying over him like a mother hen, making it impossible for him to get over the incubus.

There was a small light in the situation, namely band practice with The Outcasts. After their first gig at prom their confidence had been given a boost of major proportions, and they had all vowed to aim higher with their next performance. Only when playing the guitar could Arthur forget about his problems, when completely losing himself in the music.

Or when talking to Gilbert. Ever since that one night at Francis' house, he and the wolf had gotten inseparable. Gilbert always made sure he was unable to think about Francis whenever he was around. It was as if the albino had proclaimed himself Arthur's personal life coach or something, always there to cheer him up and keep his mind on happy thoughts.

He would never tell the wolf, but Arthur was incredibly grateful for that. If it weren't for Gilbert, the mage wouldn't have been able to pick himself up so fast. He owed Gilbert. A lot. And frankly, they didn't bicker even half as much as they used to. Arthur had grown used to the wolf, not as a constant presence, but as a true friend.

Life certainly had its way of picking the path that included the strangest turns of events.

xoxox

It was a very special night, and everyone knew it.

For it was a full moon tonight. She shone brightly in the dark blue sky, overpowering the whitish blinking of her friends the stars. So huge and big and solid, up there in the heavens above, outlines blurred by a mysterious gas-like substance. Mother Moon, casting her spell upon the earth. And what a spell it was.

Nights when the moon was full were very important in the monster society, considered sacred even by some. For on those nights, everyone's senses were heightened, their instincts strengthened, their powers enforced. Magic had more powerful effects, demons thrived, vampires became more effective and more carnal. Very different from nights where the moon was gone, as they seemed to get more in touch with their human side on those particular nights.

The full moon also had a very peculiar effect on werewolves.

"Gilbert, what the bloody hell are you doing here?!" Arthur yelled, leaning out of his bedroom window.

There, frolicking about in the garden, was a huge white wolf with crimson red eyes. Arthur could recognize that weird barking laughter even when the werewolf was like this. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the albino in his wolf form, but normally Gilbert stayed with his pack on such nights.

The other howled, and Arthur quickly raced down to meet him before he could make too much noise. As soon as he was outside, Gilbert rushed forward to meet him.

"No, Gilbert, wait!"

Arthur cursed as the animal pounced him, immediately pushing him to the ground. His breath smelled of beer as he gave the mage sloppy licks with his hot, wet tongue.

"That's disgusting, you dog! Get off!"

Gilbert sullenly rolled off and lay down next to him, staring at Arthur with big, sad eyes. The moon reflected off his pure white fur, which looked thick, warm, and very soft and comfortable. Light stripes of grey ran through the hairs and painted the tip of his tail. Such a beautiful being, and it had to be that obnoxiously narcissist werewolf hiding inside.

"Are you seriously pouting because I won't let you lick my face?" Arthur grumbled.

Gilbert turned his head away with a little whine, his ears drooping even more.

"Urgh… Why can't you just speak English when you're like this? I don't speak wolf."

Gilbert gazed up at him with his best puppy face to try and make the other laugh, but even then Arthur noticed there was something wrong.

"Gilbert? Why are you not out hunting with your pack like you always do?"

Ruby reds dropped to the ground, a soft little moan escaping him.

"What's wrong?" Arthur immediately asked, although fully knowing the wolf couldn't tell him when like this.

Gilbert replied by quietly shuffling forward and letting his massive head rest in Arthur's lap. The mage hesitantly put a hand in his fur, stroking the obviously distressed werewolf. Gilbert let out soft little noises, and if he'd been human right then he probably would have been trying to hold in his tears, boasting about how un-awesome it was to cry in front of his friend.

"…All right then dog, I've decided. You can come upstairs if you want."

Gilbert instantly perked up, wagging his tail. Arthur pulled him up, cursing when the albino licked him in the face again.

"Stop that! If you keep licking me I'm shutting you out!"

Not that he really would, because the wolf looked far too happy right now. Arthur figured he still owed Gilbert for comforting him that one night, so now he could finally repay him.

They snuck inside after making sure his parents and grandmother weren't around, Arthur hushing the other when his nails clicked melodically on the tiles.

"What is he doing here?"

With his foot raised on the first step to the stairs, Arthur flinched. Gilbert glanced up, still excitedly wagging his tail. Dylan was staring at them with raised eyebrows and crossed arms.

"You know dad doesn't want him in here anymore. Thinks he's a bad influence."

"Yes, I know," Arthur snapped, before switching to a pleading expression.

"No one needs to know he's here, Dylan. And I didn't tell mum that one time you brought a girl over."

Dylan's eyes widened, before he sighed.

"Touché, Ari." ("Stop calling me that!") "So that's your boyfriend huh?" he then asked, eyeing the wolf curiously.

Gilbert barked out laughter as Arthur growled furiously.

"No, he is not! Have you been talking to Patrick or something?!"

Dylan shrugged. "No, I just figured what with you two sneaking about the house in the middle of the night."

"Well he's not."

Arthur grumbled as he stomped up the stairs, Gilbert happily following after him as his brother rolled his eyes one last time and left them to their own devices.

While he didn't like Patrick and Dylan making the wrong assumptions, it was better than Finn's stubborn denial and Allistor constantly trying to "make him straight." He knew those playboy magazines he often found under his door nowadays were Allistor's work. Not that they helped one single bit. On the contrary, Henry had found out about them and was even more furious at his youngest now. Instead of just giving him the silent treatment he also tried taking away all of his posters and free time privileges. Arthur had only just been able to save his posters from the trashcan, and he now had to sneak out of his bedroom window whenever he wanted to go to band practice (which luckily, Henry hadn't found out about just yet). Had Arthur not been so angry with his father's annoying behaviour, he would have seen they quite resembled each other in their stubbornness.

"Hey, get off!"

As soon as he opened his bedroom door, Gilbert raced over to his bed and jumped on top of the mattress.

"I mean it, you dog! I don't want my stuff smelling like you!"

Gilbert simply barked some more as he eased himself down, giving Arthur his best puppy impression. Arthur threw his hands up in exasperation before locking the door behind him.

"Fine. But just this once, mind you! I'm only allowing it because you're sa- because I had to change my covers tomorrow night anyway."

Gilbert smiled and patted the bed with his gigantic paw, waiting for Arthur to walk over and flop down beside him. The wolf immediately curled up next to the blond, letting his warm body envelop the mage's much smaller one. Arthur let himself be covered by that hot fuzzy weight, deciding to just let it all wash over him. Gilbert had comforted him on New Year, the least he could do was let him sleep away his sorrow tonight.

"Just don't drool, or I'll give you a sound trashing as soon as you're human again."

Gilbert snickered, before they both grew quiet. The wolf had his head resting on Arthur's stomach, the mage nuzzling in the soft pelt by his side. Arthur felt his eyelids growing heavy, and slipped away with the sound of slow breathing and a musky animalistic scent.

xoxox

When Arthur slowly started waking up, he was feeling incredibly hot. Not sweaty or as if he was in a sauna (and no, not aroused either), but as if he were wrapped in some sort of warm cocoon. Blinking, he became aware of the sound of content breathing. He yawned before opening his eyes. Then he froze.

Gilbert was lying right next to him, one arm supporting Arthur's head and wrapped around his shoulder, the other lying tightly across his waist. The sun was already up outside, hence the werewolf having taken on his human form. Arthur lay curled up at his chest for some reason, their legs entangled.

Arthur's first reaction was to free himself and wake the other up. But when he saw the peaceful look on Gilbert's face, he somehow couldn't find it in him to do that. Gilbert must have been really distressed last night for him to embrace Arthur like that. Plus it felt awfully nice, lying here like that. Warm and safe and extremely comforted and cherished.

Arthur let his eyes drift close again, snuggling up to the other's chest. His heart calmed down in its house while he evened out his breathing, trying to catch some more sleep before it was night again.

And deliberately ignoring the butterflies fluttering in his stomach at the thought of being held so lovingly, knowing Gilbert wouldn't have done that had he not been emotionally stressed (and wanting even more it was Francis lying there instead, but knowing that would never be).

xoxox

Arthur knew he was sick. Had caught some kind of virus of foreign bacteria. And it was all Gilbert's fault.

After that one night when the wolf came to him for reasons unknown (Gilbert telling him he'd talk about it later), things had changed. Somehow.

It had first gotten his attention when he dreamt about the wolf. Nothing special, just him and Gilbert playing some guitar together. However, for some peculiar reason he'd woken up bathing in sweat and with hammering heart.

After that night, more strange occurrences came to his attention. Like how he found himself smiling more often than before, or how he often stared a little too long whenever the other grinned or locked eyes with him. He also realized that whenever he got bored in class, his mind wandered off to Gilbert, to past conversations or just the image of his face – and one time, only once mind you, to the memory of Gilbert hovering over him, skin hot and tongue wet on his bare neck, sending shivers down his body with predatory leers.

It wasn't too annoying of a disease, just very odd. Very odd indeed. And he fully blamed the werewolf for making him feel like this. It wasn't very becoming of a gentleman to catch rare illnesses like that.

xoxox

School was finally out. After grumbling about his homework for a bit he said goodbye to Lukas and started heading home. Who knew what awaited him at home this time? As soon as he rounded the next corner, Arthur froze.

There, a few feet away, stood Gilbert. Elizabeta was there too.

And she was kissing him.

Arthur instantly had to avert his eyes, for the moment he witnessed this crime against humanity his blood began boiling, stomach squeezing together almost painfully, and he got the most peculiar urge to curse the blasted wolf. He ran back behind his corner and pushed himself flush against the wall, panting and disorientated.

Why did he react like that? Why did he suddenly want to see Elizabeta's blood? Why did he…

Oh no. Nononononono. It couldn't be true. He had _not_ developed a crush on one of his best friends.

Yet when he thought about the albino and the wicca locking lips, he saw red.

No. NO. This wasn't supposed to happen!

Tears filled his eyes as he crouched down, balling his fists and pushing them against his chest to stop them from spilling ( _stiff upper lip, stiff upper lip-_ ).

No. Not again. Not when he finally seemed to be able to resist Francis. Please, let it be anything but that.

Arthur bit his lip until he tasted blood, cursing himself for being so stupid.

It was bad enough having an unrequited love for one of your friends, but two? Now that was simply pathetic. He was pathetic.

' _Why do I always fall for the wrong people?'_ he thought bitterly, closing his eyes when the tears threatened to fall.

He couldn't do this. Not again. Not after all the effort he had put into ignoring Francis, after getting his heart broken by the incubus. He wasn't strong enough to go through all this a second time.

Then the resolution came. He was just going to have to break all contact with the wolf.

Taking deep breaths to calm down he pushed himself up on wobbly legs.

' _I am the worst.'_

He thought about glancing back one final time, but knew that would only hurt him more. With determined steps he distanced himself from the other, pushing the conflicting emotions to the back of his heart, locking them away and swallowing the key.

' _I truly am the screw-up of the family.'_

xoxox

"Arthur, talk to me."

"Leave me alone."

Arthur slapped at the hand Gilbert tried to place on his shoulder. Gilbert frowned, clueless as to why the other was acting so contrary today. True, they'd bickered a lot in the past, sometimes for no reason at all, but lately they'd been doing so well? So why this?

Arthur averted his gaze. He knew his friend didn't deserve to be treated like this; it wasn't his fault Arthur had to fall in love with him. Still, he couldn't stop himself.

"Artie-"

"Shut up! Just shut up, okay! I don't need a wolf to ask me what's wrong!"

This time, Gilbert looked more angry and hurt than merely confused. He pulled his hand back swiftly, as if electricity had gone through it.

"Fine," he snarled, ears lying flat on his head. "Suit yourself. I really thought you were different, but I guess I was wrong."

And before Arthur could ask what on earth that was supposed to mean, Gilbert was gone.

And Arthur knew he'd screwed up royally.


	9. Chapter 9: Beryl

Chapter 9: Beryl

Now Arthur had really done it. He saw it in the exasperation his father oozed, that forlorn look of "What on earth am I to do with you?"

His hair was died a fluorescent green. And the tips… cotton candy pink.

Combined with the earring, the bracelets with pins on them and the new tongue piercing he'd gotten, Arthur was all but unrecognizable. At least, that is what Henry thought, or must be thinking right now, staring at his youngest.

Arthur prepared himself for the biggest shouting match history had ever perceived. It didn't come.

Instead, his father put his head in his hands. "I cannot deal with this right now." And disappeared into his study. The door fell shut behind him with an ominous click.

Arthur's heart thumped so loud he could almost feel every single movement it made. He tried to swallow, but the hot coal stuck down his throat wouldn't go away. He had to give everything in his might not to burst into tears. Gilbert, all that was going on with his friends, his father… It was just like Henry said. Arthur too didn't know how to deal with… everything. Henry must hate him now.

"Ari."

The teen jumped, startled when he found his grandmother appearing by his side. He averted his gaze when he noticed her staring at his new appearance.

"I'm sorry…" he mumbled, the words stinging his mouth and tongue. It was one thing having his father hate him, but Anglia as well…

He was surprised once more by a hand gently going through his painted locks. "There is a reason for you doing this, isn't there? You are not just rebelling for the sake of rebelling. You can tell me, Arthur."

He gulped, and hesitantly lifted his eyes off the ground, letting them wander up to the stern expression of his grandmother. His friends had always been frightened by her when they were younger, but he knew she meant no harm.

Arthur let himself be guided towards a chair, his grandmother conjuring up a nice cuppa for the both of them. Then she gestured for him to start speaking, and he knew she wouldn't leave him be until she had a proper reason for his recent behaviour.

"I just… really want to be a rock star," he tried, but she wasn't fooled.

"You already are, but that's not the reason for these new developments."

"You knew that I-"

"Of course," she said, smiling a tad mischievously, "I'm not daft, dear. Hiding that band from me? Please, you must've mistaken me for a fool." A sip from the cup. "Of course I know your ambitions have _something_ to do with all this, but they're not the main issue. Something else happened. You've been awfully down lately. Tell me why."

Arthur swallowed once again, twiddling his thumbs.

"I… may or may not be in love with someone, but because of reasons it will never work out."

She seemed not the least bit surprised by this statement, but still waited for him to continue. So he did.

"I uh… I became good friends with someone else. They helped me forget about my love a bit. But then…" He faltered, eyes going unfocused. "Then… I fell for- I fell for that friend too. Which is stupid enough on its own, but now I found out they're already in love with someone else, so… I'm in love with two people who will never love me back."

Anglia caressed his cheek. "And you are certain he's in love with another?"

Arthur looked up, shocked. His grandmother merely smiled. She knew who he was talking about, of course she knew. The Britannia Angel had eyes in the back of her head, as a matter of speech. Arthur blushed, but she grabbed his chin to prevent him from going into hiding again.

"Ari. Go talk to him. Whether he returns your feelings or not, if he's a friend he deserves to know."

"I… I can't, Nana. We had a fight, and I don't know if-"

"Ari. If he really means that much to you, are you just going to let it all go to waste just because of one silly fight?"

Now the tears were truly welling up. He quickly wiped them away as he stood up on wobbly legs, stricken by some odd determinacy. Anglia smiled at him, nodding towards the door.

"And don't forget to go talk with your father when you're back. He may need time to calm down now, and your emotions may be important, but that doesn't mean I'll let you do as you please to my son."

"Okay…" he murmured, adding that task to his mental list of impossibilities he was going to make reality today.

Then he spun on his heels, ran out the door, and disappeared.

xoxox

It was Ludwig who opened the door when Arthur rang the bell. He looked happy to see the mage for some reason.

"You will find my Bruder in the garage, he's practicing his drums. He seems like he needs someone to talk to, so it's good you arrived."

Arthur walked through the hallway with beating heart and sweaty hands. He could hear music pouring through the door, and knew Gilbert wouldn't be able to hear him if he knocked. So instead, he simply pushed against the door and peeked inside. The music cut off as soon as Gilbert looked up.

"Oh, didn't hear you come in."

"Yes, I… Ludwig let me in."

They stared at each other for a long and pregnant moment, before Gilbert groaned.

"Come on Artie, just get in here and close the door. Don't look at me like we haven't known each other for what, six years?"

Arthur quickly did as told, closing the door with hands that were trembling with nerves. He let Gilbert study his new appearance as he awkwardly walked over to a chair and sat down on the edge of it, as if ready to jump up and flee at any given moment. Gilbert delicately placed his drumsticks on the ground and pulled his knees to his chest on top of his seat.

"So, what brings you to my humble abode?" he tried to laugh it off, but Arthur could still see a little hurt hidden in those red orbs.

"I'm sorry."

"You- what?"

"I am sorry, okay?" Arthur repeated, stubbornly frowning. "For snapping at you without reason. Well, I did have a reason, but-"

"And what would that be?" Gilbert interrupted, ears twitching towards his guest. He lightly tilted his head when Arthur blushed and ducked his chin, curious to what was to come next.

"Come on Artie, you can tell me. I really don't want to fight because of some stupid-"

"…Lizzy…"

"What? Speak up, I can't hear-"

"I saw you kiss Elizabeta, okay?" he finally growled, squinting almost angrily at the other. Gilbert looked just as confused as he felt embarrassed.

"Kiss Eliza? When did you… Ah!" His eyes widened, tail wagging one single time before falling limp. His expression saddened considerably after that. "…Ah."

"So… Are you two together?"

"We used to be," Gilbert mumbled. He then straightened his back and looked Arthur dead in the eye, as if having made a decision. "We used to be," he repeated, much louder this time. "But, not because we were in love."

"Then why?" Arthur asked desperately, slapping a hand over his mouth when the slightest hint of suspicion crawled into Gilbert's fierce look.

"Why are you asking me this Artie? What do you care about who I kiss or not? Well, I'm flattered you care, but why…"

He had nowhere left to go. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Arthur felt his cheeks warming up and his mouth opening and closing, but no words came out. Gilbert slowly stood.

"I-I… I uh… It's because- I…"

He was getting closer. Arthur panicked and jerked up as well.

"I have to go-"

"Nein."

The werewolf captured his wrist, perhaps a bit too harshly. Arthur hissed, but the other spun him around, muttering a quick apology.

"Artie, Spatz, bitte. Tell me what's bothering you. We're friends, perhaps even best friends, if I'm allowed to say that."

 _Don't. Please don't._

"You know you can tell me anything. I kept your secret about Francis, didn't I? You can trust me."

"But I don't want to!" Arthur protested, distress rising with every inch Gilbert gained on him. The werewolf was much, much too close for this kind of conversation. "I don't want to be your friend, nor your best friend, and I hate myself for thinking that!"

" _Why_?"

"Because I love you, you idiot!"

He gasped when the confession finally made itself known. The mage squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for Gilbert to start laughing, to be disgusted, to tell him he was stupid for even trying…

Instead, he suddenly felt himself pulled into a gentle embrace.

"Arthur… Is that really how you feel?" Gilbert asked softly. Arthur nodded. Gilbert sighed.

He was still a bit frozen, the blush having spread to his ears and neck. Gilbert hugged him for a while, waiting for the tension to leave his muscles. When that didn't happen, he sighed again.

"I guess you're waiting for an answer or something…"

Arthur felt his heart break a little at that. Such a response could only mean one thing…

Gilbert pulled the ex-blond down with him, so they were both sitting on the ground. He caught his hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Let me tell you a story," the werewolf whispered, closing his eyes. "I've never told this to anyone… Not Francis, not Antonio, only my family knows what happened. And Eliza… You see, there's stuff no one tells you when you get introduced to the monster society at a later age.

You know I'm the oldest of the pack, but that I'm not our Vati's son by blood. He changed me when I was just a kid, because my real parents had died in an accident. I don't think he would've done it if he didn't feel responsible for… for causing it. But that's all I'm going to say about that now, so don't bother asking.

He loved me, and probably still does. She did too- his wife, I mean, the mother of my brothers and sister. He expected great things of me. Some family members from Germany came to visit, just a couple of weeks. And that's when I met _him_."

His smile was strained. Arthur didn't dare breath, although he felt his hope crushed over and over again.

"Vati's sister, Wilhelmina, she had a son. Bit older than me, werewolf by birth. Frederick was his name. We got along great. He told amazing stories of his home, was fascinated by history. He's the reason I call myself a Prussian. Because… because it reminds me of him. Before I noticed it, I had fallen for him. Hard. And he for me.

We tried to keep our relationship hidden. Sneak out while the adults were talking. Shared our first kiss during full moon. It was amazing. Until they found out. Everyone was furious. We were a disgrace. Not just because we were both male, or because we were family, but also because I was a half-blood. Normally doesn't mean a thing, but apparently his part of the family is… I was absolutely not good enough for someone his stature. We tried to run away the night they were supposed to go home."

Gilbert's voice had gotten so soft Arthur had to strain his ears to keep listening.

"He didn't see the car."

Then it became so quiet you could have heard the wings of a fly buzzing. Arthur stared at the other wide-eyed, watching as salty tears slipped from beneath his closed eyelids. Gilbert looked up, still trying to smile despite his obvious agony. Losing a beloved… Arthur couldn't imagine the hurt Gilbert must've gone through.

"That's why Alfher gets on my case. Why I'm expected to take all responsibility on me. They never said it out loud, but I know they all blame me for his dead. For Frederick, for Fritz… That's when I began dating Eliza. On one hand to lay low for a while, on the other hand because her presence really did comfort me. I told her everything, and she helped me forget. It didn't last long though, seeing as we only love each other as friends. But yeah, that's what happened. That's also why she kissed me back then. I was thinking about him again, and needed someone to help me forget. Or at least distract me, or whatever. But I still miss him, and that will never go away."

Arthur… thought he understood. He also knew this was no time to be selfish. Still…

"So you still love him," he said, sounding calm and resigned, but also disillusioned. Not only was Francis in love with a human, Gilbert was still hung up on his previous lover. He knew he shouldn't be thinking this, but couldn't help himself.

"Sorry."

"No, don't- there's nothing you have to apologize for. I understand. And I'm sorry for, for what happened. I wish it didn't."

Gilbert surprised him with another hug.

"I really do love you Artie. Just… I don't know if I'm able to give you the love you deserve. Right now, at least. Maybe later, but I don't want to keep you waiting either. Thank you for telling me, though. That was brave of you."

"Ditto," Arthur chuckled sadly.

He would get over this. He knew he would. Just like he had buried his affection for Francis, he would do the same for Gilbert.

But at least the wolf knew, and that felt as a huge relief somehow.

Still, he couldn't keep himself from crying when Gilbert placed a chaste kiss on his cheek.

xoxox

Arthur came home early that morning. His parents were waiting up for him. Jane rushed to his small figure once he came in, smothering him with kisses and questions. Arthur told her he was fine, before making eye-contact with his father. Henry took in a deep breath and stood up, ready to give Arthur the scolding of his life.

It never came, as the proud man was suddenly hugged by his youngest son, the most stubborn of them all (and the one most resembling his own character).

"I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry, for everything. But you have to trust that I'll be all right in the end. I'm still getting high grades, aren't I? And I'm good at what I'm passionate about. Isn't that enough for you?"

(He allowed himself some cockiness at this point, knowing Henry would have done the same.)

The man stared at his youngest with eyes the size of flying saucers, looking left and right as if someone was going to tell him what to do. Jane hummed, gesturing towards Arthur. Henry gulped, and awkwardly patted the boy on his head.

"Uh… All right, I can see you are in an odd mood… I won't yell at you then, I… You just, go to your room for now Arthur, we'll talk about this later. Really talk. And… I promise I'll listen, if you'll listen to me."

"Deal."

Nobody noticed the presence of an angel, smiling down at the trio from upstairs.

Yes, everything was going to be all right. And if it wasn't, she'd give them another push in the right direction.

xoxox

 **Only the epilogue left! This was never supposed to be that long of a story, but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!**


	10. Epilogue

Epilogue

"Oi fag, are you going to your boyfriend again?"

Arthur struggled free from Patrick's vice-like hold on his slender body.

"Let go, I'm already late! This is important for me, you tit!"

"Oho, such dirty language!" the other laughed, letting go nonetheless.

The four brothers watched Arthur sprint away. He still had green and pink hair, but most of the piercings were replaced for less visible ones. And still their parents had no idea of the G-string on Arthur's butt cheek.

"I'm still not okay with it," Allistor grumbled.

"Ah, let him have his fun. We never said a thing when you brought your girlfriend home every other night," Patrick laughed, successfully dodging his brother's fist.

Finn didn't comment, but Dylan smiled.

"At least he isn't such a grump now."

That was true, they all silently agreed.

…

Arthur met up with Gilbert a bit further down the road. The other showed him his homework, complaining about how the teachers really gave too much of it. Arthur didn't comment on the bouquet of flowers dangling from his left hand.

They walked down the sunny lane, letting the light and warmth caress them as long-lost friends. It really was a nice change of pace, going out during the day. Gilbert looked twice as handsome without his animalistic features – not that Arthur was going to tell him that, the albino didn't need another ego-boost.

Gilbert held the gate open for him, getting a scolding because Gilbert-I-am-not-a-girl-for-heaven's-sake. Elizabeta was already waiting at their destination, pleasantly surprised to see Arthur's presence.

Gilbert stepped forward and placed his bouquet in front of the rock, reading "For Fritz." It wasn't his true grave, but here under the blossoming apple tree Gilbert and Frederick had shared many intimate moments.

The three stood there in quiet reverie for quite a long time, sending mute messages to Gilbert's deceased loved-one.

Elizabeta slung an arm around the werewolf's shoulder, getting a smile in return.

Arthur showed no reaction as his hand was captured. He understood.

Gilbert loved him, he truly did. Gilbert also loved Fritz.

It wasn't a competition, how could it be?

But Arthur felt happy, being here with the two of them. Happy for sharing this experience, for the trust Gilbert put in him. Happy for himself, for the old heart in his young body which had finally calmed down.

Happy, because even though it might take another couple of years, he knew Gilbert was never going to leave him, whether it be as a lover or a friend. And that was enough for now.

After all, they were creatures of the night.

There were worse things that could happen.


End file.
